


The Dream I Dreamed

by Gavroche_A



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate season ten, Angels are Dicks, Cas is in love with Dean, Demon!Dean, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, because I actually ship destiel but I'm also in love with dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:59:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 25,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gavroche_A/pseuds/Gavroche_A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The angels have fallen. Most of them are looking to take revenge on Castiel for forcing them from their home. Abbadon's forces are gathering strength and the Winchesters are beginning to realize just how outnumbered they are. When Kevin finds a lead on the Angel Tablet that he is still struggling to translate, Sam and Dean rush to find an ally before Abbadon can attack. But when they meet Hope, a girl with a secret that she doesn't even know about, things don't go exactly as planned. Will she be able to help them?</p><p>This takes place throughout season 9. Spoilers, obviously. There will be Demon!Dean.</p><p>Chapters are based on the song 'I Dreamed a Dream' from the musical Les Misérables.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Dreamed a Dream in Time Gone By

Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Kevin sat hunched around the two huge tables in the bunker, each searching through some part of the Men of Letters' massive archives for something, anything, to kill Abbadon and stop Metatron and the many different factions of angels. The room was silent except for the rustle of ancient pages and the scratch of pen on paper.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by Kevin's voice. "Guys, look. I found something!"

The three men lept to their feet and gathered around behind him, looking over his shoulder at the thick black rock that only he could translate.

"What is it?" Sam asked, his voice impatient.

"I didn't notice it at first because I was so focused on looking for information about the Knights of Hell, but I think it could be useful. It's not a way to kill Abbadon, but-"

"Kevin, spit it out." Dean interrupted.

The prophet pointed to a section of the ancient stone. "It says here that when God created the angels, he feared they would become distracted from their task as the guardians of the human race. So he placed some of them on Earth and gave them no knowledge of who they really were. They were to live as humans until another human possessing the angel tablet awoke the grace hidden inside of them."

Sam frowned. "Okay, but angels are kind of our problem right now. No offense, Cas."

"None taken." the ex-angel replied.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I don't really see how a bunch of amnesiacs with wings are gonna help us."

"Don't you see?" Kevin insisted. "These angels have lived as humans their whole lives; they haven't had any heavenly brainwashing. These guys aren't going to want in on the fighting between factions. They'll be on our side."

Castiel nodded slowly, a thoughtful look in his dark blue eyes. "Kevin has a point. It is not in an angel's nature to fight with our kin. An angel with no ties of loyalty to any of the factions will most likely side with us to stop the fighting.

"'Most likely'?" Sam questioned skeptically. "I don't know, Cas. Are we sure we want to make more angels? What if we're wrong about what they'll do?"

"How do we find them?" Dean asked. Sam shot him an angry look. "Hey, I don't like it any more than you do. But we need help if we're going to stop Abbadon and Metatron. I mean, look at us; Cas is human now, Kevin's exhausted, and you-" he stopped mid-sentence, realizing that he almost gave away Ezekiel's presence to Sam.

"What?" Sam asked, irritated.

"I just mean you and I, we're just two hunters. We can't fight an army of angels and an army of demons. Not alone." Sam raised his eyebrows skeptically. "All I'm saying is, a little extra angel juice would really help."

Sam sighed. "Fine. How do we do this?"

Kevin turned back to the tablet. "There's a tracking spell. Once we find one of them we have to do another spell using the tablet. We're going to need a few things: an angel feather, human blood, rosemary,and five candles." the prophet listed.

Dean nodded. " We can use my blood. I think we still have some feathers in the trunk." Sam nodded and headed to the garage where the Impala was parked. "Cas, can you get some rosemary out of the kitchen? I'll get the candles." the ex-angel turned and was gone.

"In nomine Domini Dei, cui inscriptus est verbum istud, occultus loco da mihi, qui nescit, angeli sunt."

The prophet then lit the angel feather using the candle at the point of the star and tossed it into the bowl. As the flames died down, an address and a name were left seared into the bowl. 2323 Anderson Ave. Manhattan, KS, 66502. Hope.

"Alright," Dean said, "let's go make ourselves an angel."


	2. When Hope Was High

Dean and Sam loaded up the Impala, ready to leave on their search for the potential angel. Castiel and Kevin were staying at the bunker to continue researching; Kevin had found that he could translate the tablet into Enochian more easily than he could English, but he needed the former angel's help to interpret the Enochian. Since the brothers were taking the tablet with them in order to perform the spell, they were working off of the prophet's extensive notes.

Sam and Dean slid into the smooth leather seats of the Impala, the old doors creaking as they slammed shut behind them. "Let's rock and roll." Dean muttered, turning up the volume on the stereo. Sam groaned but didn't argue, turning to stare out the window.

It only took about an hour and a half for the Winchesters to reach Massachusetts, Kansas. The address they had come up with using the spell was for a dormitory on campus of the Kansas State University. Dean parked the car outside the large brick building and the brothers walked in, stopping at the desk in the lobby of the building.

The receptionist was young, probably a college student working to pay off her loans. She had dyed blonde hair and far too much eye liner around her flat brown eyes.

"Hi," Dean began, putting on a charismatic air. "we're looking for a girl named Hope. Someone told us she lives here?"

"Why do you wanna know?" the girl asked harshly. Sam rolled his eyes.

"We're friends of hers. Went to high school together. We were in town, thought we'd stop by." the younger Winchester lied smoothly.

The girl eyed the two hunters, chewing on her lip uncertainly. Finally she nodded. "Yeah, okay." she flipped through a stack of papers in front of her. "Hope Collins, is that who you were looking for?" the boys nodded, though in fact they had no idea what her last name was. They were just glad that her angelic name matched her human one. "She lives on the sixth floor, room fifty-two."

"Thanks." Dean mumbled as he headed toward the elevator, followed by Sam. When the silver doors opened with a /ding/ the brothers stepped inside, Sam hitting the round button reading '6' as he followed Dean into the small space, nearly having to duck.

"What are we gonna say when we get in there?" Sam asked his brother. "'Hi, you're an angel but you don't know it so my brother and I are going to do a spell to help you remember' just doesn't quite seem right."

"I don't know." Dean mused. "I figured we'd just sort of do it and let the tablet explain. Once she remembers being an angel she should understand, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. It just feels wrong, ya know? She's got a good, normal life here. It doesn't seem fair to pull her away from that without any warning." Sam sighed.

"I know, Sammy. But nobody's gonna be able to have any kind of life if we can't stop Abbadon, and right now this is all we've got." Dean insisted. "But I guess we could try to explain a little, make it easier on the girl." he offered. Sam just nodded.

The elevator came to a stop and the hunters stepped into the hall which was lined with ugly green and yellow stripes. They stopped at room number fifty-two and Dean rapped on the door with his fist. They waited a moment but there was no reply. He tried again. "Hope?" he called softly. Nothing.

"She's probably in class or something." Sam reasoned. "C'mon if we head downstairs maybe we can catch her on her way in." Dean nodded and they walked back to the elevator, riding it down to the first floor.

The Winchesters waited outside the building for an hour. Not a soul went in or came out. Dean had begun pacing after the first half hour. "Maybe we should go upstairs and break into her room." the older Winchester suggested. "What if Abbadon's demons got to her first?"

"Why would they come after her, Dean? As far as they know she's just a regular human." Sam argued.

"All I'm saying is-" Dean's reply was cut short as he slammed into a small figure that was passing by him. The girl was so short that he hadn't noticed her until his pacing brought him crashing into her. The force of the impact had knocked her to the ground, causing her to drop her books. Papers were spread like autumn leaves all around her.

"I'm sorry." Dean apologized, kneeling and helping the girl stand up. He wasn't given to helpfulness or apologies, but something about the girl filled him with a protective instinct almost as strong as the one he felt for Sam.

"No, it was my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going." she insisted, her cheeks flushing red as her pale, almost gray, blue eyes met Dean's startlingly green ones. She ducked her head and began gathering her papers.

Dean, realizing that he still had a hand on her back and shoulder from helping her sit up released her and began to help gather the scattered pages when something in the top right-hand corner of one of the many pages of notes caught his eye.

"You're Hope Collins?" he asked. At this point Sam had reached them and was kneeling to help when he heard Dean's words.

"Um...yes?" she replied, incredulous. They had finished gathering the scattered papers and as Hope stood up Dean was stunned again by her petite build. She was a least a foot shorter than him, probably more, and standing next to Sam she looked like a child. Her golden, not-quite-shoulder length hair that was pulled into a messy braid that it was just barely long enough to form did nothing to offset this. Her skin was pale and silvery, dotted with freckles that matched her hair. She wore no makeup on her wide, stormy eyes and her lips were pink and round. She looked like she couldn't be more than sixteen, but Dean knew that she must be older since she was enrolled in college.

"We've been looking for you." Sam stated.

"You have?" Hope asked. "Why?"

Dean opened his mouth to attempt an explanation when he noticed two large shapes. A pair of college boys that looked like their single purpose in life was to be line backers were running toward them and as they neared, Dean could see that their eyes were jet black. "Shit." he muttered, turning to Sam. "Check it out. Two black-eyes, twelve-o-clock. Abbadon must have her minions tailing us."

Sam looked around, then cursed under his breath. "We've got three more over there, under that tree."

Dean turned to Hope. "Okay, we officially have no time to explain, we're just gonna have to do this, because we could really use some smiting right now." he said, his voice apologetic as he reached into his coat to pull out the angel tablet. He glanced quickly at Sam, hoping that Ezekiel would take the hint and come out to play.

"What?" Hope asked, starting to back away. Dean grabbed her wrist and she twisted in his grasp, attempting to get free.

Hope opened her mouth wide, sucking in air to scream, but before she could Dean began to chant the spell that he had memorized at the bunker. "Latentem ad te veniat. Nosce te officiumtuumimpleatur. Cuiusverbum in nomine Domini Deiloquorvobisimperosumihominumgratiae ac tueri." he finished, holding the angel tablet between himself and the struggling Hope. Suddenly she stopped twisting and her eyes flashed blue. She straightened her shoulders and looked around in confusion.

"Where-?" before she could finish the statement the first demons were upon them. Sam pulled out the demon knife and Dean clutched Castiel's angel blade (on loan to him from the former angel in case of such a situation). The two hunters fought back the demons with some difficulty, being surrounded and attempting to protect Hope's small form while they fought. The new angel hadn't moved since the spell ended.

"Hope?" Dean called over his shoulder. "A little help?" Suddenly a blinding flash of light surrounded them. The two hunters turned to face Hope. She seemed to be the source of the light, as if her soul was so bright that it's glow was blinding even through her skin. Two shadowy shapes appeared behind her, then spread into feathered black wings. The demon nearest to Dean opened its mouth and retreated in a column of black smoke, but before any of the others could move the light intensified until the whole world was white. When it faded and the hunters could see again, the demons had vanished. Both men sighed, catching their breath. "Took you long enough." Dean grumbled.

"HEY!" a voice called across the open space. They looked up to see several campus security guards running toward them.

"Shit." Dean exclaimed again, but before the word was fully out of his mouth he felt a tug in his gut and then he was in a different place. He blinked, disoriented. "What the hell-"

"I'm sorry, but we needed to get out of there fast." A female voice explained. Hope. She had teleported the three of them away from the place where the fight had occurred. Dean had to admit, it was better than running.

"Where are we?" Sam asked.

"A few blocks away from the dormitory. I assume you have a car?" Hope replied.

"Yeah. It's parked beside the building."

"What kind?" Hope asked, closing her eyes.

"Uh, a nineteen sixty-seven Chevrolet Impala. Black." Dean answered. Hope nodded and before he could say anything else they were sitting in the familiar leather seats, Hope perched in the back. Dean turned to face the new angel. "What took you so long to help us back there?"

"It has been millennia since I have had access to my grace, Dean Winchester. Forgive me if it took me a moment to remember how to use it."

"How do you know my name?" Dean asked warily.

"When you gave me my grace back, I got the cliff notes of the important conversations between the angels. And boy, do they talk about you."

Dean smiled sarcastically. "All good things, I hope."

"Dean Winchester; Michael's vessel. The man who stopped the apocalypse. They don't seem to like you too much." Hope replied. "And Sam; the one who said yes to Lucifer then threw himself and Michael into the pit. To be honest, I'm not sure who they hate more." Sam and Dean listened to this warily. Hope just grinned at them. "I think we're going to get along quite nicely."

Dean made a surprised sound. "So, let me get this straight; you've got the Winchester Biography as told by our dear enemies on the God Squad in your head, and you want to help us?"

Hope pursed her lips "Yeah, pretty much."

Now it was Sam's turn to be confused. "Um...why?"

"Are you kidding? Have you met the other angels? The only ones I ever liked are either dead or your friends. Or both. When God decided to make some of us human, I volunteered. I can't stand the, uh, 'God Squad'."

Dean laughed at the angel's use of the nickname. "Fair enough." the hunter conceded. "So, if you've been tuned into angel radio, I assume you know about Abbadon? And Metatron?"

The angel nodded. "I know a little, but it would definitely help if you filled me in on all of the juicy details." she teased.

"Take it away, Sammy."

"Alright. Well, Abbadon is forming an army..." Sam began. By the time they got back to the bunker, Hope knew everything the Winchesters did. Dean pulled the Impala into the garage and put his baby in park.

"C'mon; we've got work to do."


	3. And Life Worth Living

"Cas, Kevin, we're back!" Dean called as he walked into the main room of the bunker, followed by Sam and Hope. There was a rustling in the adjacent room and then the prophet and the former angel walked in.

"Hey, you found her." Kevin commented when he spotted Hope. 

Sam nodded. "This is Hope. Hope, this is Kevin and--"

"Castiel." Hope interrupted him, looking steadily at the former angel. "You were a young angel when I left Heaven, but I remember you. You're human, now, I see."

"And you are once again an angel. I envy you." He replied. "Still, it is nice to see one of my kin who isn't bent on killing me, however fair that blood lust may be."

Hope frowned sympathetically. "I know you didn't mean for this to happen, Castiel. Some day all of the angels whose trust is worth having will understand that , too. l will help you convince them." She comforted, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Castiel, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. "You're a good man, Cas," She murmured into his chest. Castiel closed his eyes. He looked like he was fighting back tears, his jaw quivering and his throat tight. Then, to the Winchesters' surprise, he hugged the girl back. The former angel 's arms wrapped easily around Hope's small form and he buried his face in the top of her head.

After a moment, Hope stepped back. Cas looked embarrassed at having come so close to breaking down and Hope looked near tears herself. Kevin cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm glad you guys are back. Cas and I hit a speed bump in our translating and we really need the tablet to crack this section." He told Dean.

"Sure." the Hunter reached into his jacket to pull the tablet from the inside pocket, but it was empty. "What the--son of a bitch!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Sam asked.

"The demon that got away; it took the angel tablet."

********************

"Damn it!" Dean said for the fiftieth time, kicking the wall and wincing as pain shot through his foot. "Son of a bitch!" he cried.

"You know, it's not the wall's fault. Plus, If you stop kicking it, your foot probably won't hurt so much." Hope told him.

"Great. Not only did we lose our method of making angels, but the one we did manage to make has an attitude the size of planet earth." Dean grumbled.

"Actually, it's the size of the solar system. I have to store some of the sarcasm in space to keep your planet from exploding. You're welcome." she snapped.

"Guys!" Sam broke in before the argument could escalate to a full on battle. "Bickering isn't going to get the tablet back. We need to make a plan."

Castiel nodded. "Sam is right. We need to get the tablet back before Abbadon can use it."

"OK, how are we going to find her, then?" Dean asked, trying to force the irritation out of his voice.

"I think I may be able to help with that." Kevin spoke up. "I can sort of sense where the tablet is, kind of like radar or something. Comes with being a prophet, I guess."

"So you know where she took it?" Hope asked.

"Not exactly....I can just, sort of....feel where I need to go to find it." the prophet replied.

"But you could lead us there?" Sam broke in. Kevin nodded.

"No way." Dean interrupted. "The tablet is useless without a prophet to interpret it, right? So who do you think is number one on the Demons' Most Wanted list right now?"

"Me." Kevin realized. "Great."

"Exactly. No way in hell are we getting him anywhere near Abandon's hideout." Dean finished.

"Dean, I agree that Kevin is in danger, but we need that tablet back." Sam insisted. "What if we have Kevin lead us there and then come back without him once we know where to go?" the hunter suggested.

Castiel nodded slowly. "It isn't ideal, but with the three of us we should be able to do it."

"Three of us?" Dean shook his head. "No way, Cas. You're staying here with Kevin, holding down the fort."

"But, Dean--"

"Look, man, you're new at being human. You're not used to being so....mortal. I just don't want you to get yourself killed." Dean explained gently, looking at the former angel with concern dancing in his green eyes.

Cas hesitated for a moment, his blue eyes uncertain. "Alright, Dean." He finally agreed. "I will stay. But you two have to be careful. I don't want you getting yourselves killed, either."

"Don't worry, Cas. I'll make sure they come home in one piece." Hope promised. Everyone stared at her. "What? Of course I'm going. The two of you can't take on a nest of demons by yourselves."

"She's right, Dean. We need her help. That's why we found her in the first place." Sam sighed.

"Fine. You, me, and Feathers. That's it." Dean gave in. "Kevin can lead us there tomorrow. I'm exhausted." Everyone nodded their agreement and headed off to their respective beds, Dean showing Hope to an empty room despite the fact that she no longer needed to sleep.

"There's your bed. Sit and.....read or something. I don't know." Dean stated, turning to leave.

"Dean." Hope said, stopping him.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to let me heal you?" the angel asked, taking a step closer to him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." the hunter replied, his green eyes sealing off, making his expression unreadable.

"Come on, Dean. You twisted your right ankle and you've got some bruised ribs. Let me fix it." Hope insisted.

"How did you--"

"I'm an angel. Don't worry, Sam didn't notice." she replied, interrupting him. "The only reason those demons landed a blow on you was because you were shielding me. The least I can do is heal you." her gray-blue eyes were filled with sincerity. "Here." The angel reached up to place two fingers on Dean's forehead. She had to reach a little because she was so much shorter than him. He bent a little to make it easier. 

Hope closed her eyes and sent a piece of her grace up her arm and into Dean. It quickly found his injuries and healed them, traveling back into the angel that it belonged to.

"There." Hope whispered. She opened her eyes and for a second she could see a flash of some emotion cross Dean's face, but it was gone before she could identify it.

Dean cleared his throat. "Thanks." He mumbled.

"You're welcome."

The two stared at each other for a moment, the blue and green of their eyes mixing in the space between them. Finally Dean cleared his throat again. "I should go. To sleep. In my room." He stammered.

"Right." Hope said, ducking her head to hide the blush creeping into her cheeks. "Goodnight, Dean." she called as the hunter retreated through the door.

He turned, his face slightly pinker than usual. "Goodnight, Hope." He locked his bright green eyes on hers one more time before turning on his heel and fleeing to his room.

Hope sank slowly to perch on the edge of her bed, watching the space where Dean disappeared with confusion swelling in her eyes. Finally she sighed and covered her face with her hands, pushing thoughts of Dean Winchester from her mind.


	4. I Dreamed that Love Would Never Die

When Dean got to his room and lay down on his bed he tossed and turned, feeling restless and uncomfortable. He drifted off a couple of times but always woke up before he could get really deeply asleep.

Finally, he gave up and climbed out of bed, deciding he might as well do some research if he couldn't get any sleep. He slipped on his robe and headed to the main room of the bunker.

When he got into the hall he heard a sound and froze, listening closer. It came again, a small cry. He grabbed a gun from the dresser just inside his room and took a step down the corridor, toward the source of the sound.

As Dean inched down the hall, his eyes scanning through the darkness warily, he realized that the sound was coming from Hope's room. His heart gave a small leap in his chest, but he swallowed the feeling, continuing forward.

The door was not closed completely, and Dean could hear the sound coming through the crack. He slipped his gun into the gap and shoved the door open, stepping in quickly.

Hope was sitting on her bed. Her legs were pulled tight to her chest and her back faced the door. As Dean watched her small body shook as a muffled sob filled the room. The hunter realized that she was crying.

He lowered his gun, tucking it into the waist of his jeans at the small of his back. "Hope?" he asked cautiously.

The angel jumped and whirled around to face him. When she realized who it was she wiped her eyes quickly, trying to hide her tears. "Dean! What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, taking a step toward the bed.

"Nothing." she said softly, ducking her head so he wouldn't see the redness surrounding her gray-blue eyes.

Dean shook his head, lowering himself to sit on the mattress beside her, leaving about a foot between them. "I know that look; it's something. You can tell me."

Hope sighed. "I have been alive since God created humans." she began. "I have lived among them with no knowledge of who I really was. Life after life I have gathered friends and family, people that I love and care about, century after century." her voice faltered momentarily. She swallowed, her throat thick and her eyes filling with tears again. "I remember every single one of them, and they're all gone. Dead." she took a deep breath. "I don't know how to process that kind of loss, that magnitude of grief. It's like...like..."

"Like a black hole has opened inside of you, and with every breath a little piece of you falls in and is obliterated?" Dean interrupted. Hope looked up at his face, shocked, but we was looking straight ahead, not at her. "And every inch of you aches on the inside, like you just can't quite breathe deep enough or no matter how much you eat your stomach still feels hollow. And the world around you is just kind of gray and empty."

There was a short silence as the angel fumbled for an answer. She finally settled for another question. "How many have you lost?" Hope asked gently.

"Too many." Dean replied quietly. He momentarily shifted his green gaze to Hope, his eyes darting away quickly. They were moist and red around the edges. "Some days I think I should just stop caring about anything because it hurts too damn much when it all goes to hell." The hunter sighed, shaking his head. Hope nodded slightly, staring at the green irises that were less than a foot from her face. "But some days I just want to..." He glanced at the angel who blushed when his eyes met hers.

"What?" Neither broke the stare.

"Some days I just want to...to..." Suddenly Dean seemed to come back to himself. All of the emotion that,had been so vivid in his eyes just moments before was gone, replaced by a hard, cool wall of green. "Nothing."

"What? Dean, you can tell me--"

"I said nothing. Never mind." He insisted, looking away from the hurt expression in Hope's pale blue eyes. He stood as if to leave then paused, suddenly feeling guilty. "It's not you, it's just.....I...I..." He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and shoved them back. "I just can't talk about it." He managed, his voice only quivering a little. He fled the room before Hope could see how upset he was.

"Dean! Dean, wait!" the angel called after him, but he didn't so much,as slow down. He knew she could just zap in front of him and force him to explain, but she didn't . Maybe she knew he needed to be alone. Maybe she simply forgot she could. For whatever reason, he was grateful.

Dean was terrified of what he had felt in that room with her. How could I let someone in like that? He chastised himself. Everyone I've ever loved, everything I've ever cared about, has been ripped away from me. The Hunter reminded himself, feeling again the pain of it. He made the decision as he ducked into his room, shutting the door behind him and collapsing on his bed, that he would not fall in love with Hope.

Hope sighed and sat back down on her bed. She could tell Dean didn't want to be followed, so she let him go. She closed her eyes, remembering how beautiful those green eyes were when he removed his defenses and let you see. Then she thought of the pain that was bottled up inside the hunter, eating away at him. She knew exactly how he felt. Maybe one day he'll trust me enough to let me in. She thought.


	5. I Dreamed that God Would be Forgiving

Dean awoke in his room, curled under the soft blankets. He rolled over and was surprised to see Hope sitting on the edge of the mattress, watching him. He jumped.

"I'm sorry." Hope apologized. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just....kind of miss sleeping. It was always nice to be able to escape for a while. And, well, you seemed so peaceful...." she trailed off, blushing with a look on her face that said she could not believe she said that out loud. "I mean..." she stood as if to leave.

Dean frowned, sitting up. "Hey, it's okay." He said, stopping her retreat. She sat back down, glancing up at him and then quickly away, a blush creeping into her fair cheeks. "Look, about last night--" he began.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I understand. Sometimes you just can't talk." She assured him. The angel paused, uncertainty playing through her eyes. Finally, she sat back on the mattress and continued. "But I hope that when you can talk, you'll talk to me." She added, searching his eyes.

"Yeah," Dean's voice was rough "Yeah, I think I will. And you....you can talk to me." Hope just nodded.

They sat there for several seconds, neither willing to break the moment. And though Dean's walls did not come down, Hope could see them soften just the tiniest bit which gave her....well, hope.

Finally, Dean cleared his throat. "We should probably get moving if we're going to find the tablet before dark."

"You're right." Hope agreed, trying not to sound too mournful. The angel sighed. "Let's go see if the rest of the Scooby Gang is up."

*********************

Once everyone was awake and had eaten breakfast they gathered in the main room of the bunker. "Alright, here's the plan;" Dean began, clapping his hands together, "Sam, Kevin, and I are going to track down the tablet. When we find it, we'll come back here, switch out Moses for Feathers," Kevin and Hope scowled at the hunter's nicknames, "and go Indiana Jones on the Godsetta Stone."

"Hold on," Hope protested. "I'm coming with you."

"No, actually, you're not." Dean replied.

"Why?"

"You're kind of a blinking 'Please Kill Me' sign for Abbadon." Sam explained, giving the angel an apologetic look.

Dean nodded "I'd rather not get my ass kicked by demons today. This is a strictly confrontation-free trip. I'm leaving the nukes at home. Plus, we've got the King if Hell in our dungeon. Wouldn't want to leave him unsupervised."

"It's not as if he can escape!" she protested. Dean just raises an eyebrow, to which Hope frowned. "Well, what are me and Cas supposed to do while you're gone?"

"I don't know. You're brother and sister, right?" the angel and former angel nodded. "Then....bond." Dean said, shrugging. "Sam, Kevin, we need to get going. You ready?" The two men nodded. "Great, let's hit the road."

The prophet and the two hunters grabbed their bags and were gone, leaving Hope and Castiel alone in the bunker.

**********************

"Arghh, this is so boring!!" Hope groaned throwing herself down into one of the chairs around the two rectangular tables in the main room of the bunker. "You'd think with a library that big they'd have something decent to read, but no." She sighed. "I want my book!"

Cas looked up at that. "What are you reading?" he asked, surprising the angel. He hadn't said much since the boys left a few hours ago.

"Uh,...Ender's Game." She replied. "By Orson Scott Card."

Castiel nodded. "Where is it?" he asked, a bit awkwardly, as if casual conversation was extremely difficult for him. Hope couldn't blame him; she personally hated talking to people she didn't really know more than just about anything.

"In my dorm." She told him, her words followed by a mournful sigh. "Along with my other stuff."

Castiel was silent for a moment. Then, "Would you like to go get it?"

Hope looked up at him, boredom glinting in her pale blue eyes. "Oh, god, yes!"

*********************

"There, turn there!" Kevin yelled from the back seat of the Impala, leaning forward between Sam and Dean to watch the road. Sam would have sat in the back but his legs were too long and Dean refused to let him drive his baby.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean muttered angrily, turning the wheel hard to the right and slamming on the brake to keep from sliding off the narrow country road. "You gotta give me more warning than that, Kev."

"Sorry!" the prophet sighed. "I'm telling you as soon as I know. It's not as if I've got a road map in my head, it's just a feeling of when and where I should turn."

"Yeah, well, tell your 'feelings' to give me more warning, because if they make me wreck my baby you'll be feeling when and where my foot goes up your ass." Dean snapped, peeling his eyes away from the road to send Kevin a glare.

Kevin raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry."

*********************

Hope and Castiel appeared in a small room. The walls were painted white and covered with posters of various TV shows and movies (most of them based on books). One wall held a bulletin board covered in sticky notes with random quotes and reminders scrawled on them in a messy but feminine hand. Beside it stood a bookshelf that looked like it was brought into the room in pieces because it was much too big to fit through the door. It was completely filled with books. In the corner there was a small dresser with a slightly warped mirror and a twin sized bed with tangled dark blue sheets rested against the far wall with a small, cluttered table next to it. Hope's dorm room, Cas realized, beginning to understand why Dean always protested against being 'zapped' places.

"Here we are." Hope said, spreading her arms to gesture to the room. She walked over to the bedside table and picked up a book resting on a pile of note pads and loose papers. The angel opened it to the middle and buried her nose in the pages, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. "Oh, I've missed you." She muttered, kissing the cover lightly.

Castiel watched this with a confused and slightly concerned look on his face, tilting his head and squinting his crystal blue eyes. Hope glanced up at him and laughed.

"I love books. As you can probably tell." She explained, waving a hand at the enormous bookshelf to their right. "Have you ever smelled a book before?"

"No." Cas replied cautiously. "Is that a normal part of human behavior? I've never seen Sam or Dean do it."

"That's because the only books they read would probably give you the black death if you smelled them." Hope teased. "Here, try it." She offered, handing Castiel the book. The former angel took it cautiously, uncertainty playing on his features. "Go on." Hope encouraged him.

He raised the book to his nose, opening to the middle as Hope had done, and sniffed it carefully. His eyes widened in surprise and he sniffed again, inhaling more deeply this time. "Mmmm." Cas looked up at Hope, shocked, "It smells good! Like...vanilla."

Hope nodded. "I think so, too." She agreed, taking the book back. "Okay, I'm going to pack some of my stuff. I have a bag in the closet over there, would you hand it to me?" She asked, rifling through a drawer in the small table. Castiel obliged, passing the blue duffel bag to her. She unzipped it and began filling it with everything from books to clothes to toiletries. She even grabbed the pillow off of her bed.

"You ready to head out?" She asked when she was finished.

"I suppose so." Castiel murmured. "Are you?"

Hope nodded, taking a last glance around the room. "Yeah. Let's go home."

********************

"You're sure this is the place?" Sam asked, staring at the building in front of them. The Impala was parked, per Kevin's instructions, outside of the Winchester Public Library in Winchester, Tennessee. It was almost dark outside, the drive having taken several hours.

Kevin nodded. "The tablet is in there. I can feel it."

Dean snorted. "It's kind of ironic, If you think about it." He said.

"Yeah, Dean, we know; hiding from the Winchesters in Winchester. We get the joke." Sam muttered.

"No; it's the Word of God....in a library surrounded by the Word of God-knows-who-all-else." Dean laughed. "It's punny."

Sam just stared at him. "Ha ha." He said sarcastically.

"Never mind. C'mon, let's leave before they notice us." Dean grumbled, cranking the Impala and driving away.


	6. Then I Was Young

When Sam, Dean, and Kevin finally returned to the bunker, they found Hope and Castiel waiting in the main room. "It's about time!" Hope exclaimed. "You guys were gone forever. I finished my book."

"What book?" Sam asked, interested.

"Ender's Game, by Orson Scott Card." The angel replied.

"I love that book! I've read the whole series." the younger Winchester said excitedly.

"Me too." Hope confessed. "I actually read Ender's Game when I was in the sixth grade, but I was rereading it in preparation for the movie." she grinned. "I think I got Cas hooked."

The former angel glanced up from the paperback he cradled in his hands. "It's very good."

Dean cleared his throat. "If you two are finished fangirling, we've got a tablet to find."

"Right. Let's go." Hope said, standing up.

"Not so fast." Dean interrupted. "It's a long drive and it's getting late. By the time we get there the sun will be coming up."

Hope rolled her eyes. "Hello, Angel of the Lord." she reminded him, pointing to her self. "I thought that was kind of why I'm here? I can get us there in no time, just tell me where it is." Dean raised his eyebrows at her, looking offended. The angel sighed. "Fine, I'll bring the car."

"Damn right, you'll bring the car." Dean muttered under his breath.

Sam chuckled. "It's at the public library in Winchester, Tennessee."

Hope snorted. "Ironic. All right, here we go." She placed two fingers on either of the Winchesters' foreheads, having to stand on her toes and stretch a little because they were so much taller than her. "See ya Cas, Kevin." Then they were gone.

*******************************************

They appeared in the Impala parked on the curb in front of the Winchester Public Library, Sam and Dean up front and Hope in the back. "So, what's the plan?" Hope asked, leaning forward between the seats to look at the brothers.

Dean shrugged. "This is as far as we got with Kevin. Can you sense any disturbances in the force?"

Hope snorted but closed her eyes. "There's definitely something really powerful in there, but I can't tell if it's the tablet or not; the place is covered in sigils." she opened her eyes. "I won't be able to get in unless you two can alter some of them."

Dean nodded. "There's some spray paint in the trunk." he said, opening his door. "C'mon, Sammy, let's vandalize a library."

*******************************************

It didn't take long for the brothers to marr enough of the sigils that Hope could get in. Most of them were on the outside of the building in clear paint and after a half hour of Hope directing them as to where to put a thick black line of paint, the angel nodded approvingly. "We should be okay now." She once again placed two fingers on the boys' heads and they vanished, reappearing moments later in a dimly lit hallway. The floor was gray concrete and the walls were white blocks, slightly discolored with age. "We're in the basement." Hope explained in a whisper. "I think the tablet is in there." she pointed to a door at the end of the hall.

"Demons?" Sam asked. Hope nodded.

"How many?" Dean questioned the angel.

She closed her eyes, chewing on her lip in thought. "At least ten, maybe more." she finally said.

Dean swore under his breath but nodded, pulling the demon killing knife out of his jacket. Sam did the same with Castiel's angel blade which he had borrowed from the former angel. Hope flicked her wrist and an angel blade appeared in her hand, seeming to fall out of tin air and into her grip.

"This is crazy." Sam said.

"I know, but we need that tablet back. We can't let Abbadon keep a weapon like that. This may be our only chance." Dean replied. Sam nodded grudgingly.

"Let's do this." Hope said, stepping forward. Dean pushed her back, behind him. She made an unhappy sound. "Dean, I'm an angel, not a porcelain doll. You don't have to protect me." she protested.

Dean didn't reply, just fixed her with a look that even in the dim light clearly said There is no way in Hell I'm backing down. The angel sighed but stayed behind him.

When they reached the door, Dean paused, holding up three fingers. He mouthed the numbers as he counted down on his fingers. Three. Two. One. They burst through the door and immediately launched into battle. A demon possessing a large man jumped on Dean but didn't even land a blow before he thrust the demon knife into his chest. He fell to the ground, veins sparking with orange light as another demon threw itself at the hunter. Hope stabbed it from behind. Dean gave her an appreciative look. "Uh, Hope, don't get me wrong; stabbing is good, but smiting is better." he said.

"I can't." she hissed.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean I can't! There's something in this room, it's blocking my powers." she snapped.

"You have got to be kidding me." Dean groaned. Sam punched another demon in the jaw then pierced its neck with his borrowed angel blade.

The three were all great fighters, but they were heavily outnumbered. No matter how many demons they stabbed and sliced and punched, more kept coming. Suddenly, Sam was thrown against the wall, his angel blade knocked from his grip, skidding across the floor. "Sam!" Dean yelled, he started to step forward, to his brother, but he, too was thrown backward, his body pressed against the cold stone wall, his knife lost, too.

"Dean!" Hope cried, rushing toward him, only to be stopped by a demon. He was a short, middle-aged man with dark, tightly curled hair, a small sharp nose, and cruel black eyes. He gripped her arm tightly as a dark smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"So, the Winchesters have got another angel following them around like a lost puppy. And this one's a girl. Ooh, Dean you do surprise me." he taunted. His voice was terribly soft, like the purr of a wild cat that knows it has caught you.

"Hope, run!" Dean called, watching the scene before him with panic flashing in his green eyes.

She ignored him. "Let them go!" she demanded, her voice cold and powerful. It surprised Dean. She was so small and sweet-looking. It was hard to believe she cold have such ice in her tone, such fire in her eyes. He admired her for it.

The demon just laughed. "Or what? You'll glare me to death?" he released her arm and began to pace around her, looking her up and down. It made Dean's blood boil. "You're all out of juice, sweetie." She bristled at the pet name, how his voice warped it from a loving title to an insult. The demon stalked over to Dean and examined him, smirking at the way the hunter's muscles were clenched as he fought with everything he had to get down from that wall and punch his smug little face. "No, Abbadon will want to take care of you personally. I have strict orders to keep the Winchesters captive at all costs." he looked thoughtful. "Though, I have to admit, I would like to hear Dean Winchester scream. I wasn't there for your time in Hell, but I hear it was delightful. I suppose I could tell her you fought." he knelt to pick up the demon knife from where Dean had dropped it.

"No!" Hope charged forward, but the demon just threw her against the wall with a flick of his wrist.

"Hope!" Dean cried.

The demon laughed. "Human emotions are so pitiful. Empathy. Compassion. Love." He said the word with so much spite that it was almost unrecognizable. "Though personally, I like the physical pain better. I suppose I just like to get my hands dirty..." he trailed off, pulling the knife back as he prepared to thrust it into Dean's side. Suddenly a blinding white light filled the room. Dean and Sam shut their eyes. When it faded, the demons were gone. They fell to the ground, the demonic hold no longer forcing them against the walls. They scrambled to their feet, making eye contact as they stood and sharing a look that both knew meant I'm fine. They looked to where Hope lay in a heap on the floor.

"Hope!" Dean rushed over to her, Sam right behind him.

"I'm alright." she managed, her voice strained. "The sigil, it's on that wall." she pointed to her right. Sam nodded, pulling a can of spray paint that he had the forsight to bring with him out of his coat pocket. He made a line on the indicated wall. "More." Hope said. He kept spraying until the angel finally took a deep breath. "That's good." she told him, relief in her voice. Dean had pulled her to him and she leaned her forehead on his chest as he rubbed her arms. Finally she sat up straighter and offered them a weak smile. "I don't reccomend that experience." the joke fell flat.

Dean still looked concerned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Positive." she moved away from him a little, embarrassed.

"How did you do that? I thought your powers were blocked." Sam asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just saw him about to...." her voice caught in her throat. "I couldn't let him hurt Dean." she managed. The angel met Dean's eyes briefly before blushing and looking away. "C'mon, we still have to get the tablet. More demons might show up." she started to stand, but her knees buckled. Dean caught her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Easy." he said. They moved toward the center of the room where a large black box rested on a metal table. Hope placed her hands on it.

"Crap." she muttered.

"What?" Sam asked, concerned.

"It's sealed. Using magic." She paused, then cursed under her breath. "I can't open it."

"Can we take the whole box?" Dean asked.

She shook her head. "It's sealed to the table as well."

Suddenly inspiration flashed in Dean's green eyes. "What if you had two angels?" he asked, shooting a look at Sam. "Could you open it then?"

Hope gave him a strange look. "Yes, but we don't have--"

Sam's eyes flashed blue and he straightened. "Two angels?" he interrupted her, his voice more formal than usual.

Hope looked at Sam in confusion until she realized what was going on. "Sam is possessed by an angel?" she asked, shock playing in her gray-blue eyes.

"Hope, meet Zeke. Zeke, Hope." Dean replied evasively.

"You're Ezekiel, then" Hope said to the angel. "Does Sam know?" She turned on Dean who looked down, avoiding her gaze. "Dean."

"Trust me, okay?" the hunter sighed. "I'll explain later, I promise, we just really don't have time right now."

She glanced at Ezekiel. "I mean Sam no harm, I am here to help him, I swear." he told her sincerely.

Hope sighed. "Okay, I won't tell Sam. For now. But you owe me an explanation, Dean Winchester." she demanded.

Dean nodded. "As soon as we're alone."

Hope turned to Ezekiel again. "Can you feel the magic that's binding this box?" she asked.

He closed his eyes, placing his--Sam's--hands on the wooden surface. "It is very powerful......but I can help you break it."

"On the count of three." Hope said. "One. Two. Three."

Light filled the room, not as bright as before, but it lasted longer. When it finally faded Hope collapsed onto Dean, putting all of her weight on him. He caught her and helped her up. Ezekiel staggered backwards, catching himself on the wall. "It's open." Hope wheezed, glancing at Ezekiel, uncertainty dancing across her petite features.

Dean reached into the the box and pulled out the tablet. "Got it." he said. He looked up to see Sam sitting up slowly, looking around in confusion.

"What happened?" he asked.

Dean fumbled for a moment. "Some more demons showed up. You got knocked out. Hope did her smitey thing and then mojoed the box open." he lied, showing Sam the tablet.

"Wow, Hope are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine. Just exhausted." she replied. Suddenly the sound of running footsteps came from the hall. "Looks like I've got one more teleport in me." she touched their foreheads with two fingers and they appeared on the lawn in front of the library. Hope collapsed and Dean handed Sam the tablet so he could pick her up and carry her toward the Impala. "Damn, undershot." she muttered.

"It's okay, we're right here." Dean told her, gently sliding her into the backseat after Sam opened the door. The brothers climbed into the front and Dean started the engine. He shivered and turned up the heat, the comforting purr of his baby and the soft rattle of the legos crammed in the vents filling the car. He glanced back at Hope who lay passed out on the soft leather seats in the back as he pulled onto the road, headed home.


	7. And Unafraid

Sam fell asleep on the long car ride home, his head leaned against the window. Dean smiled at how peaceful he looked, a gentle smile playing on the corner of his thin lips. Dean didn't mind being the only one awake in the car. It gave him time to breathe, to think. It allowed him to loosen the iron grip he kept on his emotions just the tiniest bit. He glanced to the back seat. Hope hadn't moved an inch, still curled into the leather of the old seat. Dean pursed his lips, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. Finally, he shook his head and turned on the sterio, playing the music softer than usual so as not to wake his two sleeping passengers.

*******************************

Dean reached over and shoved Sam's arm as he pulled the Impala into the garage of the bunker. "C'mon, get up, big guy. I'm not carrying you inside, too." Sam muttered something incoherent, opening his eyes and sitting up groggily. The sun was already up; they had driven through the night, Dean the only one conscious for most of it, despite Sam's offers to take the wheel.

"How's Hope doing?" Sam asked as he got out of the car, swinging his bag over his shoulder and patting the inside pocket of his jacket to be sure the tablet was still there.

"Still out like a light, but I think she's okay. Here, take this." He said, handing his duffel to Sam as he picked Hope up and lifted her out of the car carefully, making sure not to hit her head on the roof. He pushed the door to the back seat shut with his leg and headed inside.

"We're back!" Sam called as he walked into the main room of the bunker. Cas and Kevin looked up. Concern crossed both of their faces when they saw Hope in Dean's arms.

"Is she alright?" Kevin asked.

"Just knocked out. I think she used too much of her grace." Dean explained.

"Did you get the tablet?" Castiel asked. The former angel stepped forward to examine Hope as the Winchesters came farther into the room.

"Yeah." Sam said, pulling the slab of dark rock from his pocket and handing it to the prophet. Kevin took it to the table, comparing some of the heavenly chicken scratch with his notes.

"She should be fine, she just needs to rest. She'll wake up when her grace has recharged." Cas assured Dean.

The hunter nodded. "I'll take her to her room." He said, carrying the angel away.

When he reached Hope's room, he pushed the door open with his hip, stepped through it, and kicked it shut with his foot. The hunter set Hope gently onto her bed, lowering her head onto the pillow. He started to walk away, but paused. A strand of hair had fallen in her face. Dean pursed his lips, considering, before finally reaching out and tucking the golden lock behind her ear. The angel shifted in her sleep when he pulled his hand back, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

A softness came into Dean's vivid green eyes. He recognized that sound, that slight wrinkling of her pale forehead. He knew from experience that Hope was having a nightmare.

He grabbed the chair from the corner of the room and pulled it up to the twin bed before sitting down in it. Then, hesitantly, he took her hand in his. It was so small; it fit in his palm, leaving his fingers to curl around the pale, freckled skin.

"It's okay." He whispered, his voice gentle. Dean remembered when he was a child, before his mother died, when he would have nightmares. He had been so innocent back then, with no reason to fear the things that go bump in the night. He could still see his mother's face, still hear her voice and feel her arms wrapped around him as she soothed him, singing 'Hey, Jude' softly. "Angels are watching over you." She would say.

Dean couldn't bring himself to say those words, to share such an intimate moment out loud, but he found the lyrics of the old Beatles song coming to his lips. He sang softly, his voice untrained and slightly rough, but still gentle. "Hey, Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better." He tried to send that feeling of safety and comfort to Hope with a reassuring squeeze of his hand. "Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better."

Suddenly the hunter's eyes felt heavy and he remembered that he had been up all night driving. He rested his head on the mattress as he finished the song, then fell asleep, still holding Hope's hand.


	8. And Dreams Were Made

Hope woke to the soft sound of breathing to her right. She opened her eyes to find Dean asleep in a chair beside her bed, head resting on the mattress. The angel's cheeks flushed when she realized he was holding her hand.

"Dean?" Hope whispered, squeezing the hunter's hand. He didn't stir. "Dean." she tried again. Still nothing. She sat up and began to pull her hand from his warm grip.

Dean blinked awake suddenly, eyes roaming the room for threats before they rested on Hope's face. He seemed confused at first, as if he didn't remember where he was or how he got there, but then understanding lit up his green eyes, followed by embarrassment. A blush crept up to his cheeks, making his freckles stand out on his skin. "Good morning." he said awkwardly, trying to play off his embarrassment.

Hope graciously played along, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. "Good morning." she replied, but when her eyes met Dean's there was a spark of amusement in them that told him she wasn't going to forget what had happened.

"How are you feeling?" Dean latched onto the question like a life raft.

Hope smiled. "Fine. My grace just needed to recharge." she replied. The angel paused, examining Dean's face before continuing. "Dean, you still owe me an explanation. About Sam. And Ezekiel." she elaborated.

Dean sighed, closing his eyes and reaching up to rub his forehead. "A little while ago, Sammy and I decided we were going to close the gates of Hell." Dean began. "There were three trials we were supposed to complete."

"I've heard of the trials."

"Right, well, I told Sam that I was going to do them because....because I wanted to protect him." Dean paused, swallowing hard. "But he killed the hell hound and bathed in its blood and I couldn't stop him." his voice cracked. He had to stop for a moment before continuing. "I thought he was okay for a while. But then we got to the last trial, and....you should've seen him. He was so messed up, broken down. I thought I was going to lose him." Dean's eyes were rimmed in red and his voice was getting watery. Hope reached out and placed her hand on his on top of the mattress. He didn't react. "So I took him to the hospital, and they said....they said he was going to die." Tears were piled up in his eyes now, so many that Hope was surprised they hadn't spilled over. They turned his irises a startling green. "And I just couldn't let him. So I prayed. I prayed to every goddamn angel that had just fallen to Earth to come and help my brother." He wiped at his eyes ferociously, mopping up the tears before they could fall. "And Ezekiel came. Saved me from another angel who attacked me looking for Cas. He said he could save Sammy, said he could heal him from the inside, so I let him." He looked at Hope. "What the hell else was I supposed to do? He's my brother, I couldn't just let him die. I couldn't let him down." Dean looked down. "Zeke convinced me that I shouldn't tell Sam about him. He was afraid that he would expel him, and if Sam expels him, he'll die. Please, Hope, please, don't tell Sam." Dean begged.

Hope was silent for a long time. Finally, she nodded. "Okay." she said hesitantly. "I won't tell Sam. And, for what it's worth, Dean, I understand why you did it.... But that doesn't mean I like it." the angel looked around cautiously, then lowered her voice before speaking. "I don't think I trust Ezekiel, Dean."

"What do you mean you don't trust him?" Dean asked. "C'mon, Cas vouched for him, says he's a good angel. I know you haven't exactly been frequenting heaven, but surely you know him from your days on the God Squad."

Hope sighed. "I don't think he likes me very much, Dean. When we were opening that box....he didn't help as much as he could have. He backed out, left it mostly to me. That's why I was so weak." Hope softened her expression. "All I'm saying is, keep your eyes on him."

Dean nodded. "Okay." He squeezed her hand, which she had forgotten was still covering his. He looked steadily into her pale blue eyes, opening his mouth to say something more when a deafening clap of thunder resounded through the room, cutting him off.

Hope perked up, listening. "Was that thunder?" she asked. She listened harder and the sound of heavy rain falling on the autumn leaves outside was just loud enough to be heard. She looked excitedly at Dean. "C'mon, we can finish this conversation outside; it's raining!"

*********************************

Hope grabbed Dean's arm and tugged him up and out of the room, not even pausing to grab shoes for herself. She pulled him through the main room of the bunker, which was empty. The others were probably in the stacks doing research. Maybe Sam was still asleep.

When Hope reached the door she shoved it open and, much to Dean's surprise, ran out into the drenching rain, pulling him with her.

"I love it when it rains!" Hope exclaimed. 

"You're insane!" Dean called back, frowning as the rain soaked his jacket. The angel just laughed and spread her arms, letting the water hit her whole body. Then, as if by impulse, two shadowy shapes appeared behind her, solidifying into two glistening black wings. The rain rolled off of them in thin silver streams. Hope looked up at Dean, pale blue eyes locking with green ones, and sparks filled her veins. She grinned at him, her golden hair plastered to her head from the rain.

Hope moved closer to Dean and spread one huge, onyx wing over the hunter's head, making a sort of feathery umbrella to keep the rain off of him. They were so close she could see the flecks of gold in his shocking green eyes.

"Better?" Hope breathed, having trouble finding her voice with Dean pressed so close to her.

"Much." He replied, eyes smiling. He pushed the drenched hair out of Hope's eyes.

"So....what were you going to say before I dragged you out here?" the angel asked.

Dean laughed. "Oh, you still want me to tell you, do you?"

"Yes."

"Hmm...I forgot. Guess it wasn't that important." He teased. Hope punched his chest. "Okay, okay." He laughed. "It was something along the lines of..."

The hunter bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, his shoulders folding to encase her in his body, wrapping himself around her. Hope froze, shocked, but soon began kissing him back, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his wet hair and cup the back of his neck with her palm.

Hope's wing lowered from its protective position to wrap possessively around Dean, pulling him even closer. He didn't protest, even though he was now getting rained on, the water weighing his clothes down and making them stick to his body.

"Is that so?" Hope teased breathlessly when they finally broke apart. 

Dean laughed. "Yes." 

Suddenly Hope noticed that he was shivering. The rain was cold and the wind added a bite to the frigid air. "C'mon, let's get you inside before you get hypothermia." She said, pulling her wings back and letting them fade away, first into a shadowy version of themselves and then into nothing at all.

"What, you're immune to it?" Dean asked, a little offended.

"Yes, I am." Hope replied matter-of-factly. "I'm an angel, remember?" She grinned at him as though she would find it amusing if he had forgotten--which, in fact, he had--and tugged him with her back to the door of the bunker.

"Yeah, well, you're....an angel..." He muttered lamely. Hope chuckled at his inability to think of a comeback and led him inside. They walked through the door holding hands, angel and hunter walking side by side.


	9. And Used

Sam, Cas, and Kevin were all seated around the big table in the main room of the bunker, sandwiches and ancient books spread before them. Sam looked up when Hope and Dean walked in.

"What were you doing out there? It's pouring rain!" he asked, his expression turning curious when he saw their clasped fingers.

"We noticed."

"That was the point." Dean and Hope replied at the same time.

"I believe you are in need of dry clothing." Castiel remarked. He, too seemed to have noticed that they were holding hands. Kevin glanced up briefly before looking back to the tablet.

Dean snorted, still shivering. "Yeah, thanks, Cas. We noticed." The former angel nodded thoughtfully.

The pair moved on to the hallway where their bedrooms were located. They stopped outside Hope's room. "Do you have other clothes?" Dean asked.

Hope nodded. "Cas and I went to my old apartment while you guys were looking for the tablet. I picked up some of my things."

"Okay." Dean paused. He seemed reluctant to let go of her hand, despite the fact that he was visibly shaking from cold. He placed his free hand on her cheek--just the palm covered from her temple to her jaw--and pulled her to him, lowering his head until their lips met again. Hope kissed him back for a moment before pushing him away.

"Dean. Dry clothes. You're vibrating." She reminded him gently.

He sighed but turned to go, pressing one more kiss to her lips before heading to his room.

Hope slipped into her room and riffled through her duffel bag, which she had not had time to unpack. She finally selected a pair of jeans, a plain gray t-shirt, and a coral-colored button up to wear over it, Winchester style. Then she peeled off her wet clothes and pulled on the new ones, relishing in the feeling of the dry cloth on her skin even though she hadn't been the slightest bit cold. Angels don't feel cold.

They don't feel love, either.

The thought surprised her. Was that what she felt for Dean? Love? She considered it for a moment. Yes. She decided. She wasn't sure how, because it was true that angels were not supposed to have emotions, but Hope loved Dean Winchester. The realization made her smile. She grinned as she pulled her wet hair back from her face into a short pony tail which not all of it made it into. She tucked the loose strands behind her ear.

She was still smiling when Dean knocked on her door. She pulled it open and stepped toward him. The angel stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping Dean would take the hint and bend down because even stretching up as far as possible she couldn't reach his mouth.

He did, curving his neck down and his shoulders around Hope, closing his eyes as he kissed her.

"Oh." Cas' voice came from a few feet down the hall. Hope and Dean looked up. "I was coming to see if you wanted a sandwich." The former angel explained awkwardly. Was he blushing?

"I can come make it. But thanks, Cas." Dean replied.

"Okay." Castiel turned back around and walked quickly down the hallway, looking unsure how to handle the situation he had stumbled upon.

Hope looked at Dean. "I guess you are hungry, aren't you? I forgot you have to eat."

He nodded. "So did I." That made Hope blush. He took her hand again as they walked to the kitchen.

*******************

When Hope and Dean returned to the main room of the bunker, Dean carrying a huge sandwich and a slice of pie on a plate in one hand and gripping Hope's small, pale fingers in the other, it seemed that Cas had told Sam and Kevin what he had seen. He had probably asked them what the correct human response was, or something along those lines. The three of them watched Hope and Dean closely, Cas with a curious tilt of the head, Kevin with tired approval, and Sam with a smile that he did not even try to conceal, his eyes full of happiness for his brother, who had so much trouble letting people in.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." Dean said as he sat down, not even bothering to look up from his sandwich.

"What, we're not allowed to be happy for you?" Sam asked. "C'mon, man, I hardly ever get to see you smile."

"It's true," Kevin piped up. "You're usually either pissed or depressed." Sam murmured his agreement.

Castiel nodded. "It pleases me to see you so cheerful." He said, but there was a strange tone in his voice.

Dean rolled his eyes but Hope could tell that he really was happy and having his family notice and care about that made him feel even better. "Whatever." He mumbled, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"So, how goes the research?" Hope asked. "What do we know about Abbadon?"

"That she's a Knight of Hell and nothing can kill her." Kevin replied.

"I could've told you that." Dean said.

Hope nodded. "Is there really nothing else?"

Sam shook his head. "Apparently it was too much trouble to write an instruction manual. We can't find anything. Here, take a book and start reading." He handed each of them a thick, dust-covered book.

Dean looked mournfully at his pie and shoved it aside. He sighed and began flipping through the pages, brushing dust off of the ancient paper.

******************

"Dean." Sam called from his seat at the table, not looking up from the book he was reading. Castiel and Kevin, who had woken up before the brothers, had already quit for the night, heading to bed, but Hope, Dean, and Sam were still going through the vast library of the Men of Letters, trying to find any useful piece of information that they could. "Dean." Sam called again, having gotten no answer.

"He's asleep." Hope replied for him. Sam looked up to find that Hope was right. The angel sat on the couch with Dean's head in her lap, a book resting open on his chest. Hope had lowered her own book to look at Sam. "What did you need?"

"I was just going to get him to check something in Dad's journal, but I can do it if you'll just hand it to me. It's on that table to your left."

"Sure." Hope picked up the old leather journal, eyeing it curiously, and handed it to Sam, trying not to wake Dean. She watched Sam flip through the handwritten pages, yawning and running a hand through his long brown hair.

Sam paused to read something and shook his head when his hazel eyes finished scanning the page. "Nothing. God, you'd think in a library this huge there would be some useful tidbit of information about the damn Knights of Hell!" he hissed in frustration.

Hope nodded. "Why don't you go to bed, Sam, start again tomorrow. Everyone else has. I'll keep looking. Maybe when you wake up there'll be something to go on."

"Okay." Sam sighed. "Want me to wake Dean, send him to his room?" he asked.

"Nah, let him sleep. I'll zap him to his bed if he gets in the way." She replied.

Sam chuckled. "Goodnight, Hope."

"Goodnight, Sam."

*******************

A few hours later Hope finished the book she had been reading. She had ended up sending Dean to his room a while earlier because dust kept falling from the pages onto his face, making him sneeze in his sleep. She stood, placing the finished book on the table, and decided to go check on Dean.

The angel started when she saw a dark figure sitting beside Dean's bed, but calmed when she realized who it was. "Cas?" She asked. "What are you doing here?"

The former angel looked up at her, jumping slightly. "I couldn't sleep." He answered, glancing back at Dean's sleeping form. "I used to do this all the time when I was still an angel." Cas continued. "He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping." Hope came over and sat on the edge of Dean's bed, facing Castiel. Even in the darkness she could read his expression. "I'd watch over him and Sam all night, make sure they were safe." The former angel looked down at his hands. "I can't do that anymore. If something were to happen to them, if they got hurt, I couldn't..."

Hope reached out and took his hand in hers. "That's what I'm here for. I won't let anything happen to them, Castiel. I promise." She glanced at Dean, the expression in her eyes shifting. "I love them. I love him." The angel turned back to Cas, finding her own expression mirrored in his dark blue eyes. "You love him too, don't you? Dean differently than Sam." It was more of a statement than a question; the answer was written all over his face.

"Yes." Castiel replied. "I do." He looked at Hope. "But Dean loves you, and that okay. That's good. You...make him happy. That's all I need."

"He loves you too, you know." Hope said, squeezing Cas' hand. "The bond between you two, it's....profound. You saved him, Cas. Not just from he'll, from himself. Sam tries, but there's only so much he sees, only so much Dean lets him see. Couple or not, your souls are entwined." She broke into a wide grin. "And I love you, too." She said, ruffling his feathery black hair.

Cas smiled, a rare expression on his stoic face. "Thank you, Hope." He said softly. "I...needed to hear that."

"You're welcome. Now get some sleep."

"Okay." The former angel paused on his way out the door. "Goodnight, Hope."

Hope smiled. "Goodnight, Cas." She scooted up until she was sitting by Dean's head. The angel reached out and brushed hair off of Dean's forehead, enjoying the peaceful planes of his sleeping face. A small voice in her head was nagging at her, so she opened her mouth, not sure where the words were coming from even as she whispered them. "Angels are watching over you."


	10. And Wasted

Sam and Dean sat in the main room of the bunker, Sam hunched over a pile of papers and Dean scrolling through an article on the computer telling about a slaughtered biker gang. The Winchesters suspected feuding angels and were doing their best to get to the bottom of the heavenly skirmishes. Hope, Cas, and Kevin were in the library, still working on translating the tablet.

Dean looked up as Hope walked in, brushing a few strands of short, golden hair out of her eyes. She came to stand behind Dean and wrapped her arms around his neck, peeking at the computer screen over his shoulder and frowning.

"Tired of translating the God Rock?" Dean asked playfully, pushing his chair back and pulling Hope into his lap.

"Mmm." The angel murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Dean's lips. "They've got some sort of system. Sometimes I feel like I'm more of a hindrance than a help." She ruffled Dean's short, dirty-blonde hair. "So I thought I'd come see how you guys are doing."

Dean frowned. "I haven't made any progress. Sam?" he asked, looking up at his brother who was still reading the papers in front of him.

"Hmm?" Sam asked, glancing up.

"What do you got?"

"Obituaries." He replied, holding up a paper so Hope and Dean could see. Dean rolled their chair around to get a better view.

"Is that one of the bikers'?" Hope asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. His name was Red Dawg."

Dean snorted. "Of course it was."

"It's not what you think." Sam told him. "Look; he's a family guy. Big in the PTA, he played Santa at Christmas parties"

"So, what?" Dean scoffed. "Just one day he up and joined a biker gang."

Sam shook his head. "No, he did that years ago. Get this. This is weird. Look." He grabbed the laptop next to him and pulled up a few news articles with pictures. "These are all the victims, right? They were all baptized together."

"Baptized?" Hope asked.

"Yeah. They were a born-again biker gang."

"Well, that is not something you hear every day." Dean said.

"No, it's not." Sam agreed.

Hope squinted at the computer screen. "Wait, make that bigger." She told Sam, pointing. The younger Winchester zoomed in on the picture until a badge on one of the victims' vest was legible.

"Boyle's Boys?" Dean asked. "Boyle, as in Reverend Buddy Boyle?" 

Sam leaned in to the computer and typed something, eyes scanning the screen. "Listen to this; Red Dawg's widow said he was always religious, but a week before he died, he came home from a prayer meeting and was a 'changed man filled with divine glory.'"

Dean sighed. "So, Boyle's at it again. Selling folks on being meat suits for angels."

"Just, what? Talking to smaller groups now?" Hope asked.

"I don't know." Dean shrugged. "Maybe softening them up thousands at a time, he wasn't able to control what angels got let in."

Hope nodded. "This way, Bartholomew's followers can jump in as soon as Boyle does his thing."

"So Red Dawg and his guys were Bartholomew's people?" Sam asked.

Dean frowned. "Yeah, and they got slaughtered. Which means that this new group is even worse." Dean closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "Haven't I always said that angels are dicks? No offense." he added, glancing at Hope.

"None taken." She laughed, running a hand through Dean's hair to smooth out the tangles.

***********************

When Dean woke up the next morning He followed the smell of eggs and bacon to the kitchen where he found Hope juggling several different pans on the stove. "Good morning." She greeted him without turning around.

"Good morning." He replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You make breakfast now, too?" Dean asked, mock surprise in his voice.

Hope laughed. "Yup. I'm an all-purpose angel." Dean came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her head didn't even reach his shoulder; if someone came up behind them they would not be able to tell that Hope was there.

"Where's everybody else?" Dean asked, reaching out to steal a piece of bacon from the plate in front of them, earning himself a smack on the hand from Hope.

"I think Sam and Kevin are still asleep, and Cas went to the store. Put two more pieces of bread in the toaster." She instructed him, stirring the eggs around in their pan.

Dean obeyed. "You let Cas go to the store? Alone?" After a moment his green eyes widened in horror. "You didn't let him take the Impala, did you?"

Hope laughed at the exaggerated terror in his expression. "Of course not; I'm not crazy. I zapped him there. He has strict orders not to talk to strangers, not to take candy from people in creepy vans, and to pray to me when he's done."

Dean laughed. "Covering all of the bases. Well done. I hope you told him to get pie."

"Of course." Hope turned off the stove and scooped some eggs, bacon, and sausage onto a plate. She handed it to Dean who added two freshly-buttered pieces of toast as he carried it and his coffee to the table and sat down.

Hope came up behind him and perched on the arm of his chair, rubbing his shoulders as he made an appreciative sound around a mouthful of eggs. "Sleep well?" She asked.

Dean froze for a second, then relaxed his muscles and swallowed. "Uh...yeah." He managed, sounding unsure.

"What?" Hope asked.

"Nothing. It's just..." He huffed a small laugh but his eyes held no humor. "I can't remember the last time someone asked me that." the hunter shook his head. "God, it must have been before Mom..." He trailed off, swallowing the memories. Hope moved her hand to his back, rubbing gently. Dean's hand shivered slightly, making the light bounce off of his fork.

"I'm sorry, Dean." The angel murmured, wishing for all the world that she could heal the pain in Dean's heart as easily as a cut or a broken bone. He just nodded shakily, unable to form a reply. "My Mom used to ask me every morning." Hope told him. "And if I said no, she'd sit me down and let me talk about it and by the end I always felt better." The angel was smiling softly now, still rubbing Dean's back. "Then one morning I woke up and she wasn't there to ask me." Dean looked up sympathetically. "Car crash. I was ten." She explained. "I never knew my Dad and I didn't have any other family, so I got shuffled off to foster care. And the Mom there, she would ask. But it wasn't the same, you know? I was...afraid to tell her no because what would she do to make it better? What could she do? And after a while, she stopped." Hope looked down at Dean, two pairs of red-rimmed eyes seeing everything in each other. "I never forgot how much it meant to have someone care how you slept." She smiled. "Of course, now I don't sleep, but..."

"It's still nice." Dean supplied. Hope nodded. "Well, then, did you not-sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes." She replied, looking at Dean. The Angel's eyes were soft and warm, a smile pulling up the corners of her mouth. It was the kind of look Dean was used to giving, not receiving.

"What?" Dean asked, unsure of how to respond to the affection in her eyes.

"Just...you. You're beautiful." She replied, smoothing her fingers through his hair.

Dean's heart squeezed. Once again, it had been a long time since someone had told him that. He could hear his mother's voice in his head; 'You're so beautiful, Dean. My little angel.

Angels are watching over you.'

********************

Castiel pushed a cart full of bagged and paid-for groceries into the parking lot, looking a bit flustered from the social experience. He was about to pray to Hope to come get him when two pairs of hands grabbed him from behind a car. A moment later the former angel and his attackers vanished, leaving his cart abandoned on the asphalt.


	11. There was no Ransom to be Paid

Cas slumped against a pole in a dark, damp hallway, his hands tied behind his back. He looked up at the angel standing over him."I've explained in detail, Malichi. I don't know how Metatron's spell worked. Therefore, I can't assist in reversing it. I was an unwitting accomplice."

Malichi scoffed. "Ohhh. A dupe. The great Castiel. Valued and trusted Castiel." He said the words sarcastically, strolling over to a metal table covered with instruments of torture. "Top-of-the-Christmas-tree Castiel, no more than a dupe." The angel paused, staring intently at Castiel. "Dupe or mastermind, you were inside the circle. You know where Metatron's weakness lies."

"No, I don't." Cas insisted.

Malichi sighed. "Theo." He called over his shoulder. A tall, thick man emerged from the shadows, stepping menacingly toward Castiel.

"No!" Cas cried, but the angel didn't slow. He slid an angel blade down the former Angel 's chest, leaving a line of dark red blood on his pale skin. He cried out in pain.

"You'd suffer, even die for your beliefs." Malichi continued casually, his calm voice out of place after Castiel's scream. "I get it. But is Metatron, whose poll numbers have totally tanked, worth your life?"

"Angels butchering angels, is that what we've become?" Castiel asked, disgusted.

"Just following your example, Castiel." Malichi replied sharply. "How many did you kill in Heaven? How many in the Fall?" Castiel titled his head, squinting his eyes in his signature 'I don't understand what you just said' expression. Malichi seemed surprised. "Oh, you didn't know? A host of angels died when they fell--Azrael, Sophia, Ezekiel." Castiel's look of confusion increased at the last name. "'Died' doesn't even describe it. Devastation. Wings shredded, unspeakable agony at your hands. So, I think you would want to provide any information you have, considering." He paused, waiting for the former angel in front of him to speak up. He didn't. "Alright. I leave you in the hands of an artist. I don't care what's left." He added to Theo as he walked away.

Theo looked grimly at Castiel. "Don't ask for mercy. There is none." He walked to the door and shut it. "I'll give you one last chance for this to end."

"Give me a quick death." Castiel sighed, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

Theo's voice surprised him. "I need you to speak to Metatron for me. Everyone knows you have influence." Castiel opened his eyes, trying to gauge Theo's intent. "He'll listen to you. Ask him to raise me to Heaven. You can do this, Castiel. I'll be a soldier for Metatron, do anything he wants."

"You--you serve Malichi." Cas stuttered.

Theo shook his head. "I thought he was the answer, but he's crazy."

"You're noticing this now?" Castiel asked. "You were more than willing to do his dirty work."

"I did what I had to."

"When you were sure he would defeat Bartholomew." Cas scoffed.

"But no one will survive this war." Theo said.

Castiel looked disgusted. "So you prefer to sit it out in Heaven."

"I can talk to him about restoring your grace." Theo insisted.

Suddenly Cas changed his demeanor, realizing that he might be able to get out of this if he played it right. "Well, it's, um, it's true. Metatron and I have a working relationship." He lied. Poorly.

Theo didn't seem to notice. "I knew it!" he smiled.

"You're clever, Theo." Cas praised him, trying to think how Dean would handle this situation. The hunter always seemed to know what to say at times like this. Cas could only pray that he was doing it right.

"You're allies." Theo insisted.

Cas nodded. "And he could use a skilled soldier like yourself." He paused, pretending to reconsider. "Oh, but I don't know..."

"I'm a team player, Castiel." Theo assured him, desperate.

After a moment Castiel nodded. "All right. Well?" he gestured to his restraints. Theo unbound the former angel quickly. "I'll need a moment to make contact. And you have something that I'll need."

"Anything."

Castiel grabbed a scalpel from the torture-instrument-covered table and sliced Theo's throat. A white light appeared, Theo's grace, and slowly slid out of the cut and into Castiel's mouth. As the grace filled him his eyes flashed blue. He placed a hand on Theo's forehead and white light exploded from the man's eyes as he fell to the ground.

Cas looked sadly at the angel he had just killed. His brother. "I'm sorry." He murmured before walking to the door, pulling it open, and stepping through.


	12. No Song Unsung

Dean stared into the kitchen, passing Kevin as he came out. He could see Hope through the open door, messing with something on the counter. "Hey, you seen Sam?" Dean asked.

"He went out." Kevin replied.

"Where?"

Kevin shrugged. "I don't know. You notice he's doing that a lot?"

Dean frowned. "Yeah." Kevin walked on and Dean continued into the kitchen. "Hey." he greeted Hope. She was making a sandwich. Dean smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting a quick kiss on top of her head.

"Hi." Hope leaned into his touch. She frowned. "I'm getting worried about Cas." she confided.

"You haven't heard from him?" Dean asked, concerned. He loosened his arms so Hope could turn to face him.

She shook her head. "I mean, I expected him to take a while, but this is a little more than lost-in-the-produce-section late."

Dean nodded thoughtfully. "So what do you think we should--"

"Oh!" Hope exclaimed suddenly.

"What?"

"Cas. He's praying to me. Hold on." she vanished.

Dean heaved a flustered sigh. "God, I really hate it when they do that." he muttered to himself.

A second later Hope reappeared, Castiel in tow. He had blood on his shirt and his dark hair was more ruffled than usual. Hope looked uneasy beside him.

"Cas, dude, what happened?" Dean asked.

"The leader of the opposition, his name is Malichi. He captured me. I, uh, I was tortured. But I got away."

"How?"

"I...I did what I had to." his expression darkened for a moment before he gave a barely visible shake of the head, as if trying to shake the thoughts away. "I got my grace back. Well, not mine per se, but it'll do."

Dean shook his head, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire information. "Wait, you're--you're back? You got your mojo?"

"I'm not sure." Cas admitted. "But I am an angel."

"And you're okay with that?"

Castiel's blue eyes hardened. "If we're going to war, I need to be ready."

"Cas--" Dean began.

"Dean. There's more." Hope interrupted him, speaking for the first time since she reappeared with Cas.

"What?"

Hope looked at Cas, signalling for him to continue. "Didn't you say Sam was healed by an angel named Ezekiel?"

Dean looked wary. "Uh...yeah, why?"

"Ezekiel is dead."

"What?" Dean asked. He glanced at Hope to find her unsettling gray eyes boring into him.

"He died when the angels fell." Hope said.

Dean's eyes widened. Hope was giving him a look that he would have interpreted as 'I told you so.' if the situation weren't so serious. "Cas, why don't you go see if Kevin is awake. We need to get that tablet translated." Dean said tightly.

Castiel glanced between them. He could tell that something was going on that he didn't know about, but he knew that Dean would not tell him until he was ready. "Okay." he said finally, leaving the kitchen with a last furtive glance over his shoulder at Hope and Dean's silent stand-off.

As soon as the door shut Hope flew into action. "I knew I didn't trust him! Dean--"

"I know! I know it's bad..."

"Dean, we've got to get rid of him. Now." Hope said fervently, looking Dean in the eye.

"How? Hope, Sam doesn't know he's there."

"So we tell him."

Dean shook his head. "Ezekiel...or...whoever the hell he is, might be listening. He might..." Dean didn't have to finish the sentence; Hope knew from the look in his eyes that he was imagining something bad happening to Sam. "God." Dean muttered, putting his face in his hands.

"Hey, it's okay." Hope assured him, placing a hand on his arm. "We just have to find a way to talk to Sam. Just Sam."

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay." he said shakily, then again, stronger. "Okay." Hope gave him a small, reassuring smile which he returned with a tiny one of his own.


	13. No Wine Untasted

Dean and Hope walked into the library to find Kevin hunched over a book. Cas was in the stacks, probably looking for some book on the syntax of some ungodly complex dead language.

"I need a spell. ASAP." Dean said urgently.

Kevin sighed. "Everyone always needs a spell, and it's always ASAP."

"Listen. An angel can't be expelled by another human. Okay, only by the host right?" Hope began. "But, what if there was a way to power down the angel, so that it wasn't in charge for a few seconds?"

"What?" Kevin asked.

Hope looked at Dean, uncertain about how much to say. "For instance, if--if hypothetically, I wanted to speak with the vessel but not have the squatter listen in." Dean explained.

"Why?"

"Why? Kevin, we've got tons of possessed humans out there. You with me? And when the angels kill each other off, the humans are taking it in the teeth!" Dean exploded.

"So what if we wanted to clue the human in," Hope continued, "so that he--" she glanced at Dean, "or she--could spit the angel out? That would be a good thing, right?"

"Uh...yeah?" Kevin replied hesitantly.

Dean clapped him on the back. "Okay. So hit the tablet. Let's go." he headed for the door, Hope following.

"Now?" Kevin asked.

Dean didn't even turn around, tossing over his shoulder, "Yesterday, Cinderella." With that he was gone. Hope paused briefly to give Kevin an apologetic look then took off to catch up to Dean.

***********************************

Gadreel and Metatron stood beneath a large overpass. Gadreel looked down at Metatron. "I've been thinking this over, Metatron. I will join you as second in command." he said, his voice stiff and formal.

Metatron grinned. "Bravo, Gadreel! This move will erase the mark that has hounded you through the centuries. Heaven will be restored, as will your reputation as one of its greatest heroes."

Gadreel nodded. "I thank you for this opportunity."

"There's just one more thing." Metatron said, squinting up at Gadreel.

"Yes?"

"I need to be sure of your fidelity."

"You have it." Gadreel insisted.

Metatron shook his head. "No, I mean really sure. We have enemies who pose an imminent threat to our effort. They must be neutralized."

"Slain?"

Metatron pursed his lips. "In a word."

"That...that is not who I am." Gadreel said uncertainly.

Metatron pulled a yellow card out of his jacket pocket. "Yeah." he said sarcastically. "Here's the first name on your to-do list." Gadreel took the paper, read it, and sighed. "Decide."

********************************

Hope, Dean, and Kevin stood in the storeroom, the shelves shoved away from the walls, sigils painted everywhere.

"All right, so this masterpiece we just painted--it's gonna work, right?" Dean asked.

Kevin nodded. "The sigils are supposed to briefly hobble the possessing angel. If the info's correct."

"Wait, what?" Hope asked.

"I only had time to get a little from the tablet." Kevin explained. "The rest came from an old Men of Letters book. As soon as your blood touches the ignition sigil, the spell kicks in." the prophet paused, looking between Hope and Dean. "Guys, what's going on?"

Hope pursed her lips and looked away from Kevin. Dean would have to take this one; she was almost as bad at lying as Cas.

"I told you." Dean evaded.

Kevin shook his head. "You told me theoretically. Guys, we just painted sigils in the storeroom. What the hell?"

Dean sighed. "You're going to have to trust me--us--okay? Trust that I told you everything that I can for now. Can you do that?"

"I always trust you." Kevin said. "And I always end up screwed."

Pain flashed briefly in Dean's eyes, but he buried it quickly. "Oh, come on. Always? Not always."

Hope frowned; she had not missed the look in Dean's dark green eyes.

*******************************

"Hey, where you been?' Dean asked as he walked into the room where Sam was shelving beers.

"Hey." Sam replied. "Beer run." he gestured to the cartons in his hands.

"Long beer run." Sam chuckled at Dean's comment. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah. Uh...sure." Sam replied, confused. Dean led him into the storeroom where Hope waited. "This sounds serious." Dean shut the door behind him and pulled out a knife, sliding it across his palm. He slapped his bleeding hand against the back of the door and a bright light emitted from it. Sam turned around, startled. "What's going on? What are you doing?" he asked.

"I got to tell you some stuff fast." Dean said. "It's gonna piss you off."

"Okay."

Dean sighed. "Those trials really messed you up." he began.

"Yes, I know that, Dea--"

"No, you don't." Dean interrupted. "I mean messed you up like almost dead. No more birthdays, dust to dust." he took a deep breath. "Well, that messed me up, so I made a move, okay, a tough move about you without talking it over because you were in a coma."

"Wait, what? When?" Sam asked.

"You were in the hospital, okay, and they said you were gonna die." Dean explained.

Sam looked wary. "What did you do?"

Dean paused, trying to find the words to explain. "I let an angel in."

"In what?"

"In you." Dean rushed to explain. "He said he could heal you and he is."

"He's still in me? Wait." Sam laughed, disbelieving. "That's impossible, Dean. That couldn't happen. I never invited him in."

Dean frowned, not wanting to admit this next part. "I tricked you into saying yes. It seemed like the only way."

Sam sighed angrily. "So...Again. You thought I couldn't handle something, so you took over!"

"Sam..." Hope interceded, hating the anger in his voice. Sam didn't look at her, just continued to stare frozen daggers at his brother. She could tell how it hurt Dean to have Sam look at him like that, could see the older hunter throw his walls up.

"No, I did what I had to do!" Dean yelled. "You would've never agreed to it, and you would've died."

"Well, maybe I would've liked the choice at least." Sam shot back.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but Hope interrupted him. "Dean." she warned, glancing at the clock. He nodded and turned back to Sam.

"We can do this--later." he said. "Right now we got bigger problems."

"Bigger?" Sam asked.

Dean looked hesitant, so Hope stepped up. "The angel lied."

Sam looked confused. "Lied?"

Dean spoke now. "He--he's not who he said he was. He said his name was Ezekiel. Cool guy, according to Cas, but he's not Ezekiel."

"Who is he?"

Dean glanced at Hope. "We don't know." she confessed. "Apparently, Ezekiel is dead."

"Whoever this guy is can end you in a heartbeat if he wants to, so you have got to dump him." Dean added. "Are you hearing what I'm saying? I think you're well enough now, but you got to expel him." Sam was staring off into space, not looking at Dean. "Sam? Sam--" Sam walked past Dean, apparently not paying attention. "Hey!" Dean called.

Sam turned around and threw a punch at Dean, knocking his brother to the ground.

"Hey!" Hope yelled, rushing forward. 'Sam' placed two fingers on her forehead and she collapsed, unconscious. He turned and stalked off, furious.

*******************************

Kevin looked up as 'Sam' walked into the room. "Hey, Sam." The tall man stopped briefly then continued walking. "Hey, do you notice anything a little bit off about Dean lately?" Kevin asked. "Between you and me, I'm a little bit worried about him."

"Don't worry about Dean. Dean will be fine." 'Sam,' now obviously not himself, said softly. He looked at Kevin for a moment then reached out and put his hand on the prophet's forehead.

Dean and Hope rounded the corner just as Kevin screamed, white light flooding from his eyes.

"No!" They shouted together, running forward in sync. "No! No! No! Kevin?!" Kevin's body fell to the floor. The angel in Sam's body extended a hand, throwing Hope and Dean into the wall and trapping them there.

"Sam?" Dean asked.

"There is no more Sam." The angel stated apologetically. Dean's eyes flashed with pain and he gave an involuntary cry. "But, I played him convincingly, I thought." he continued.

"How did you...?" Hope asked.

"I heard you talk with Kevin Tran tonight."

"...You told me theoretically. Guys, we just painted sigils in the storeroom. What the hell?"

"You're just gonna have to trust me--us--okay, and trust that I told you everything I can for now. Can you do that?"

The angel--Not-Ezekiel--picked up a bag and placed the tablets inside. "Alter a sigil...even the slightest...Alter the spell." He held up his hand, showing dust on his fingers. "Sorry about Kevin, but ultimately...it's for the best." he placed the yellow card from Metatron on Kevin's chest, then began to walk out, turning to look at Dean and Hope once more with a look of pity.

As Not-Ezekiel walked out the door, Dean and Hope were released. Hope vanished instantly, a look of fierce determination in her eyes.

Dean sank to his knees, his gaze fixed on Kevin's body. The prophet's eyes were burned out. "Kevin?" Dean called softly. "Kevin?" A tear slipped from his eyes just as Hope reappeared behind him, her hair disheveled, a line of blood trailing down her temple.

"Dean," she began apologetically, "I'm sorry." She knelt down and placed a hand on his back. "I'm so, so sorry."

He didn't respond.


	14. But the Tigers come at Night

After a few seconds of silence something snapped in Dean. Grief had given way to fury, mostly at himself. He stood up, shrugging off Hope's comforting hands which he barely felt, and started throwing things. Chairs, books, lamps. His ears were ringing and he couldn't hear a thing, which made him even angrier. He just wanted to hear it break, to have the world acknowledge that something was shattered, lost. My fault. My fault. My fault. The silent chant echoed in his mind, blocking everything else out. It was not the shattering sound that he wanted.

He could see Hope now, could feel her hands on his arms, his back, trying to calm him while dodging the objects he threw. He realized he didn't want to hurt her. The thought made him lower the book he held, drop it to the ground.

"Dean!" he could hear her now. Her voice was thin, frightened, but he could see her fear was not of him, but for him. He blinked hard and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. For her.

Hope could see the shift in his expression. "It's okay." she tried to comfort him, lifting a hand hesitantly and cupping his cheek. "Calm down."

Dean looked at her, examining her face closely. Suddenly tears filled his eyes again and a quiet sob broke from his mouth. Hope wrapped her arms around him and he melted into her, letting her rub his back as he cried into her shoulder. Dean's knees felt weak and he didn't try to fight it, just let himself sink down. Hope followed him until they were kneeling on the floor together.

Castiel came running into the room with wide blue eyes. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the scene before him. When his eyes fell on Kevin he walked to the prophet's body. Knowing what he would find, he knelt beside the boy and felt for a pulse anyway, but there was none. The angel then walked to Hope and Dean and lowered himself to the ground with them, placing a gentle hand on Dean's back.

After a moment Dean took a shaky breath and straightened. He wiped his eyes roughly, trying to put up his usual rough-and-tough façade, but the pain still showed in his eyes.

"Dean, what happened?" Castiel asked gently. He turned to Hope. "What's wrong?"

Dean and Hope shared a look, then Dean began to tell the story.

**************************************

"Sammy was dying. What was I supposed to do?" Dean finished, emotion making his voice rough. He and Cas sat at the table in the study. Hope was outside burning Kevin's body.

"You let an angel possess him."

Dean shook his head sadly. "He said it was the only way and I believed him. Now Sam's gone. Kevin's..." he trailed off.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Castiel said sincerely.

"Yeah, well, sorry don't pay the bills, does it?" Dean stood up. "It sure as hell ain't gonna bring Kevin back." his voice faltered and he paused, swallowing the emotion. "We've got to find that son of a bitch."

"Dean. If the angel possessing Sam isn't Ezekiel, then who is it?" Cas asked.

"A dead man walking."

Castiel raised his eyebrows. "What, you're gonna destroy him?"

"Damn right." Dean growled.

"You kill an angel, its vessel dies, too." Cas warned.

Dean's expression turned pained. "Think I don't know that? If I don't end Sam and that halo" Dean spat the word, "burns him out and I..." he stopped, fighting back tears. Castiel looked at him sympathetically, Dean's pain echoed in his blue eyes. "God, I was so damn stupid."

Cas stood up, looking earnestly at Dean, "You were stupid for the right reasons."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "like that matters."

"It does." Cas insisted, walking around the table to Dean. "Sometimes that's the only thing that matters." Dean sighed. "Listen to me. Sam is strong." Castiel continued. "If he knew an angel was possessing him, he could fight. He could cast the angel out."

"Maybe." Dean conceded. "But as far as I know, he's in the dark. I don't know how we clue him in."

"Do you remember Alfie?" Cas asked. Halfway through his sentence Hope walked in, her gray eyes solemn. She lingered uncertainly in the doorway.

"The kid angel? Yeah, why?" Dean replied, glancing at Hope.

"Before he died, he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding." Cas explained. "We might be able to-to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam."

"Do you think that would work?" Hope asked hopefully.

"I don't know, but I think we should try."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Um, where do we start?"

********************************

Dean, Cas, and Hope went down to the dungeon of the bunker to talk to Crowley. After quite a bit of negotiation worthy of the King of Hell, they reached an agreement; Crowley would help them bypass Not-Ezekiel in exchange for a--in his words--'field trip.'

With Crowley's direction, Hope zapped the group to the parking lot of a fancy office building. They strolled into the lobby and sat in a group of plush white armchairs, Cas and Dean flanking Crowley and Hope sitting on Dean's other side.

"Your source is here?" Dean asked incredulously.

Crowley nodded. "And she can track anything you need, even our little lost Samantha."

"How?" Castiel asked.

"Well, this place isn't really...this. It's a front for an NSA listening post."

Hope spoke up. "What are they listening for?"

"Everything." Crowley replied. "The U.S. government is quite the voyeur these days. So I planted one of my best and let her go to work."

"Looking for terrorists?" Cas asked.

"Looking for marks, slow boat." Crowley snapped.

Two security guards approached. "Mr. Crowley? She'll see you now." Crowley stood, followed by Hope, Dean, and Castiel. "Just Mr. Crowley." the guard said.

Hope leveled Crowley with a menacing look, which was impressive because even he was several inches taller than her. "I'll be listening to every word you say."

"Promise?" he shot back sarcastically before following the guards to an office, a smug smile on his face.

The three sat in silence for a few moments. Then Dean turned to Hope. "Hear anything?"

"No." Hope replied. "You?" she asked Cas.

The angel shook his head. "The room Crowley is in has been warded."

Dean sighed. "Awesome. That's friggin' awesome."

They sat in silence for several minutes until Crowley returned. "Your phallus on wheels just ran a red light in Somerset, Pennsylvania, ten minutes ago." he informed them, handing Dean a traffic camera picture of the Impala.

"Let's go." Dean said, standing.

"The three--er, four--amigos ride again." Crowley announced.

Cas frowned, bringing up the rear. "He's not my amigo."

*******************************

They found the Impala parked outside of a small, quaint house in Somerset. Dean traced his fingers along the frame, presumably checking for scratches, then headed into the house, followed by Cas. Hope stayed outside to keep an eye on Crowley and though she resented being put on babysitting duty, she didn't protest, understanding that someone had to watch him.

In the house Dean found the body of a man with his throat slit lying in the living room floor. Not-Ezekiel stood by the sink, his back facing Dean, washing blood from his hands. "You should not have come here, Dean." he said without turning around.

"You killed my friend, then you take my brother, and you think I'm gonna let that stand?" the hunter growled.

"I allowed you to live." Not-Ezekiel stated.

"Mistake." With that Dean lunged at him, but he was thrown back against a bookcase with just a flick of the angel's hand. Dean fell to the ground, unconscious.

Before the angel could finish him off, he was distracted by a sound behind him. He turned and was met by Castiel who threw a punch that sent the tall man crumpling to the floor.


	15. With their Voices

Not-Ezekiel awoke in an abandoned warehouse surrounded by Dean, Cas, Crowley, and Hope. The angel was tied to a chair with warded handcuffs and a metal bar across his forehead.

Dean spoke first. "Welcome to the party, pal. Cas, Hope, how we lookin'?"

"Most of Sam's internal burns have healed. I should be able to fix the rest." Castiel replied. Hope nodded her agreement. "What's your name? I thought I knew every angel in heaven, but I've never seen you."

"Why would I tell you anything?" the angel in Sam's body spat.

"Well, I don't give a damn who you are." Dean snapped. "You need to get out--now!"

"And if I don't?"

"Then you and I will have a lovely play date." Crowley smirked.

Not-Ezekiel scowled. "Even bound, I can rip this body apart. Tell them, Castiel."

"Not on my watch." Hope broke in, stepping up to stand in front of the angel. Sitting down he was only a little bit shorter than her. "I'm here to make sure Sammy's okay."

Not-Ezekiel didn't react, just turned to Dean. "If it makes you feel better, I have Sam locked away in a dream. As far as he knows, you're working a case right now; something with ghouls and cheerleaders."

"Why are you doing this, huh?" Dean asked. "We fought together. And I trusted you. I thought you were one of the good guys!"

The angel leveled him with a fierce glare. "I am doing what I have to do."

"Well, so am I." Dean spat back, trying to ignore the fact that it was Sam's eyes staring at him with such contempt.

"So am I." Crowley added in a tone that sounded more like he was doing what he wanted to do. The demon picked up a needle and plunged it into Not-Ezekiel's--and therefore Sam's--temple. The angel screamed in pain and Hope moved closer, standing next to his chair and watching like a hawk for any sign that Sam was in danger. Dean frowned and his eyes hardened as he glanced at his watch.

*******************

Dean was having a hard time dealing with Sam's body being tortured, and it became increasingly evident as the hours wore on. Suddenly he couldn't handle it anymore. The hunter walked quickly away. Hope, still perched beside the screaming angel 's chair, shared a worried look with Castiel before he turned and quickly followed Dean.

"Hey." Cas said, rendered nearly speechless at the sight of Dean desperately trying to hold back tears. His green eyes were wide and red-rimmed.

"I can't watch that anymore."

Cas nodded. "I understand. It's not Sam, but...it's still Sam."

"Pretty much, yeah." Dean replied, his voice cracking. He had to think about something else, so he latched onto the first question he could come up with. "How are you doing?"

"You want to talk about me now?" the angel asked, surprised.

"I want to talk about anything that's not a demon sticking needles into my brother's brain." The response came out thin and watery. Dean looked out the window, trying to control the tears pooling in his eyes. "Yeah, humor me, man. How you doing?"

"Uh...I'm okay." Cas replied lamely.

Dean nodded anyway. "Good. Good. That's, uh...So, what, you just change the batteries out, power back up? It's that easy?" he asked.

Cas frowned slightly. "It wasn't easy but I didn't have a choice."

"Yeah. Well, that's usually how it goes." Dean said. After a moment he met Castiel's eyes. "Cas...I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"Kickin' you out of the bunker. That's, uh...You know, not telling you about Sam." Dean elaborated.

"You thought his life was at stake." Cas protested.

Dean shook his head sadly. "Yeah. I got played."

"I thought I was saving Heaven. I got played, too."

"So you're sayin' we're both a couple of dumbasses?" Dean asked with a weak smile.

Cas returned it. "I prefer the word 'trusting.' Less dumb. Less ass."

Crowley's voice from the other room interrupted them. "Laverne! Shirley! Get in here!"

Dean and Cas rushed back into the room. Hope caught Dean's eye questioningly and he gave her a small smile, silently telling her that he was okay. She returned her attention to Sam.

"Pinhead's out cold, but watch this." Crowley moved two of the needles stuck in the angel's left temple. He inhaled sharply and began speaking in a monotone, chant-like voice.

"Zir noco iad Gadreel. Zir noco iad Gadreel."

"What's he saying?" Dean asked.

"His name." Hope answered.

Castiel nodded. "Gadreel." He added angrily.

Dean shook his head. "Does that mean something to you?"

"Well, it's why I've never seen him." Cas explained. "He's been imprisoned since the dawn of time."

"Gadreel was the sentry who allowed Lucifer into the Garden." Hope added.

Crowley's eyes widened. "My, my. A celebrity."

"Wait, the garden?" Dean asked. "Like Eden-Adam-and-Eve-fig-leaves Garden?"

Castiel nodded. "It's his fault--all of it. The corruption of man, demons, Hell. God left because of him. The archangels--the apocalypse. If he hadn't been so weak, none of it would have happened." Fury exploded in Castiel's eyes and he began to shake Gadreel. "You ruined the universe, you damn son of a bitch!"

Dean pulled Cas off, swinging him around to face him. "Cas! Cas! Hey!"

"Dean, he-"

"I get it." Dean interrupted. "But you got to chill." He gave Cas a pointed look and the angel sighed, scowling but no longer shaking with rage. Dean looked over to Crowley who was still probing needles into Gadreel's head. "What's taking so long?" he asked.

"Other than the fact that I'm trying to unravel a living, multidimensional knot of pure energy, not much." Crowley snapped back.

Suddenly Gadreel gasped in a breath and opened his eyes. "It won't work." The angel said wrongfully. "You will never find your brother. Go ahead. Poke and prod. I can sit in this chair for years and watch you fail over and over again. I've endured much worse than this, Dean. So...much...worse." He emphasized each word. "And I have all the time in the world."

"Shut up!" Dean yelled. "All right. Plan B. Cas, Hope, one of you has got to possess him."

"What?" They asked in unison.

"Do it now! Get in there, tell Sam what's going on, and help him kick that lying son of a bitch out!" Dean said.

Castiel pursed his lips. "It might work. But I can't possess a vessel without permission."

"Neither can I." Hope agreed.

Crowley cleared his throat and raised his hand, volunteering.

"No. Not happening." Dean told him, shaking his head.

"Don't be daft." Crowley argued. "Demons can take what they want. I can burrow into that rat's nest of a head. I can wake Sam up. Just call me Plan C." He said with a smirk.

"You can't-" Cas started.

Dean interrupted him. "You got a better idea? Hope?" They both shook their heads. Dean turned to Crowley. "What about the angel?"

"I'll work fast."

"And if he finds you?" Dean asked.

"I'll run." Crowley said simply. "I'm not dying for you lot. Of course, if I do this, you're gonna have to..."

"Take off the leash. Yeah, I know." Dean muttered.

Crowley nodded. "And it stays off. I save Sam, I leave here a free man. Do we have a deal?"

Dean's face was a hard, unreadable mask. "Hope, burn off Sam's tattoo."

"Dean."

"Do it." He insisted. "Do it." Hope frowned, but walked over to Sam--Gadreel--and pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing his anti-possession tattoo. She removed it in a blaze of light. Dean turned to Crowley. "If you mess with Sam, if you try anything-" he warned.

"I keep my bargains." Crowley said, sounding a bit offended. "Besides, I don't want to be inside your brother any longer than I have to. I'm not one for sloppy seconds."

Dean nodded. "When you find him, say 'Poughkeepsie.'" he instructed. "It's our go word. It means 'drop everything and run.'"

"Fine. While I'm gone, hands off the suit."

"I will destroy you." Gadreel spat, glaring at Crowley.

The demon smirked. "Eat me." A cloud of red smoke flew out of his mouth and into the bound angel.


	16. Soft as Thunder

Hope and Cas stood next to Sam's unconscious body, watching Dean pace back and forth across the room. "A demon and an angel walk into my brother. Sounds like a bad joke." He muttered.

"Dean, if this doesn't work..." Cas started.

Dean shook his head. "It'll work." He said firmly. Hope stepped up to him and took his hand, stopping his pacing. She squeezed his fingers gently.

****************

Sam sat at a table in the bunker, flipping through a book. "I mean, it just doesn't make any sense." He complained. "Why is this ghoul only chomping on dead cheerleaders?"

"Hey, you want a beer?" Dean called from the other room.

"No, I'm fine."

Suddenly, Crowley appeared in front of him. "Not bad."

Sam shot to his feet, shocked. "Dean? Dean!"

"Poughkeepsie." Crowley said.

"How do you know that word?" Sam asked warily.

"Because Dean sent me, Bullwinkle, the real Dean." Crowley replied matter-of-factly. "I'll make this quick--you've been possessed by an angel. He's got you packed away in some dusty corner of your own mind, and I'm here to break you out."

"Seriously?" Sam asked, his tone saying that he didn't believe a word of the demon's explanation.

Crowley shrugged. "Fine. We'll do this the fun way." He picked up Dean's gun from the table and shot Sam in the chest. The hunter looked down, shocked to see that he was not even bleeding. "See?" Crowley asked. "Not real. Like I said. I know how possession works, Sam." He insisted. "You've seen everything that he's seen, even if you can't remember. That's what I need you to do. I need you to remember."

Sam closed his eyes, concentrating. Memories from times when Gadreel was in control bombarded him; himself in a hospital bed, killing demons, talking to Dean, and, finally, burning Kevin's eyes out with his own hand. His face fell as he put the pieces together. "Did I kill Kevin?" he asked, his voice small.

"No, you didn't. He did." Crowley told him. "You need to take control, Sam. Blow it up and throw that punk-ass holy roller out!" Sam looked up to see Gadreel in his old vessel standing behind Crowley. "What?" the demon asked. "Oh, bollocks."

"Hello, Sam." Gadreel said.

Sam's brow furrowed. "Who are you?"

"His name is Gadreel, the original chump." Crowley answered.

"Was a chump." Gadreel corrected. "And now? I'm going to be a hero. But you, demon," he turned to Crowley, "for all your chatter, you will always be a coward." He said. "You should be running."

Crowley punched Gadreel in the face. The angel struck back, hurling him over the table. Sam rushed forward only to be thrown backwards over the table as well. Gadreel wrapped his fingers around Sam's throat, strangling him.

"Give up, boy." the angel spat. "You're not strong enough."

"Take control, Sam!" Crowley shouted. "Cast him out!"

Sam struggled to speak. "Get out of my-" he managed.

"Are you sure you want me to go?" Gadreel questioned. "Maybe I'm the only thing holding you together. I leave, you might die."

Sam flipped Gadreel off of him and stood, pressing his foot to the angel's neck. "I said get...the hell...out!"

A white light flooded from Sam's body and out the window of the warehouse, startling Dean, Hope, and Castiel. Red smoke followed soon after, pouring into Crowley's mouth. Sam gasped, regaining consciousness. Hope, Dean, and Cas ran to him.

"Sam!" Dean called. "Hope, Cas?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Crowley grumbled, indignant.

Headlights flashed in the window. Hope went to check it out as Cas removed the needles from Sam's head and Dean un-cuffed him.

"It's Abaddon." Hope warned, looking out the window.

"Go." Crowley said. "I'll handle this."

"Oh, cause you're such a good guy." Dean scoffed.

"Right now, I'm the goodest guy you got."

"This don't make us square." Dean threatened, his tone rough. "I see you again-"

"I'm dead." Crowley finished for him. "Yes, I know. I love you, too."

Dean and Cas each placed a hand on Sam's shoulder and Hope reached out to touch two fingers to his forehead. They vanished.

*******************

Castiel moved his hands over Sam's head, healing all the stab wounds from Crowley's needles. They were on a dock, rain pouring down on them. Dean stood of to the side, watching Sam. Hope watched Dean. She could tell something was wrong from the guarded look in his eyes, but she knew she would get nowhere by asking, so she just waited.

"You feel better?" Cas asked Sam.

"A little, yeah." He replied uncertainly.

"It'll take time to fully heal you. We'll have to do it in stages." Cas explained. Sam nodded, looking at Dean. The older Winchester walked slowly toward his brother and Castiel moved away to stand beside Hope.

"All right. Let me hear it." Dean surrendered.

"What do you want me to say?" Sam asked. "That I'm pissed? Okay. I am. I'm pissed. You lied to me. Again." He emphasized the last word.

"I didn't have a choice."

"I was ready to die, Dean!" Sam shouted.

Dean nodded. "I know. But I wouldn't let you, because that's not in me."

"So, what?" Sam asked. "You decide to trick me into being possessed by some...psycho angel?"

"He saved your life." Dean insisted.

Sam shook his head. "So what? I was willing to die." He took a deep breath. "And now...Kevin..." his eyes filled with tears.

"No." Dean said fervently. "That is not on you. Kevin's blood is on my hands, and that ain't ever getting clean. I'll burn for that. I will." He swallowed, setting his jaw. "But I'll find Gadreel. And I will end that son of a bitch." He paused. "But I'll do it alone."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

"Come on, man. Can't you see?" Dean said, meeting Sam's eyes. "I'm...I'm poison, Sam. People get close to me, they get killed...or worse." the hunter sighed, shaking his head. "You know, I tell myself that I-I--I help more people than I hurt. And I tell myself that I'm-I'm doing it all for the right reasons, and I--I believe that. But I can't--I won't...drag anybody through the muck with me." He finished. "Not anymore."

Sam drew in a shaky breath. "Go." He whispered. "I'm not gonna stop you." Something in Dean's expression broke at Sam's rejection. He shot Hope and Castiel a glance before turning to walk away. Hope opened her mouth to call out to him but was interrupted by Sam. "But don't go thinking that's the problem, 'cause it's not." He added sharply.

Dean paused. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Just go."

Dean started walking again. With a glance at Cas and an incredulous glare at Sam, Hope took off after him. "Dean!" she called, slowing to a walk when she caught up with him.

"Hope..." Dean sighed, his tone implying that he didn't want to talk.

Hope wasn't having any of that. "No, listen to me." She insisted, grabbing his wrist to force him to stop walking and face her. "You don't really believe that, do you? What you told Sam?" Dean started to say something but she didn't pause. "You're not poison, Dean."

"Hope, don't. Just...don't." Dean sighed, starting to walk away.

"Dean, please!"

The hunter stopped,a few feet away from Hope now. He turned to face her. "Stop! Just stop." He took a deep breath. "I can't...I can't let you get hurt, too. You're better off if I just stay away." The last part was barely audible. Dean gave Hope one last pained look, his green eyes filling with tears that he was trying so hard to hold in, and turned away again, retreating swiftly to the Impala.

"Dean..." She called. "Dean!"

He didn't respond, just climbed into the Impala, leaving her standing there with tears in her eyes. Dean started the engine and drove away, allowing his own tears to spill over now that he was alone.


	17. As they Tear your Hope Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: sort of torture, violence

Hope wasn't speaking to Sam. She understood that he was angry, and she agreed that Dean had made a mistake by not telling Sam about Gadreel, but that was no reason to let your brother go off on his own, especially when he thought that he was poison to the people he loved.

She really wasn't even happy with Cas, but she responded to him when he asked her a question, which was more than Sam could say. Dean had been gone for more than two weeks and she spent most of her time reading off by herself somewhere after her first few attempts to find Dean and bring him home failed. He simply didn't want to be found, which made Hope even angrier at the ones who let him go.

Which is why neither of them noticed right away that she was missing. Not until Castiel heard the Horn of Gabriel.

He was finishing up a healing session with Sam when he froze, his muscles going rigid. "Cas?" Sam asked, concerned. The angel didn't respond. "Cas?" Sam asked again. Castiel didn't even look at him, just walked out of the room.

Sam climbed out of his chair and chased after the angel. By the time he got to the main room of the bunker, Cas was out the door. "What the hell?" Sam muttered to himself. "Hope?" he called. No reply came, which wasn't unusual. Nevertheless, he tried again. "Hope?"

He searched the entire bunker. Most of the time he could at least find Hope--normally in the library or Dean's room--but now she was nowhere. A pang of unexpected loneliness washed over Sam as he realized that the bunker was empty except for himself. Where did they go?

******************

Castiel found himself driving up to an abandoned warehouse in a stolen car. He wasn't sure exactly why he came; there was some pull, some voice calling him that he couldn't resist. He stopped the car and walked inside.

The sight that met him was enough to shock him out of the trance that he had been in; the ground was littered with bodies. Castiel would've said they were angels but they lacked the ashen wings that marked the death of a celestial being.

A muted sound drew his attention to the corner where two demons stood holding...Hope?

Before Cas could react, the demons began chanting. A bright light emitted from a sigil painted on the wall. The Horn of Gabriel. Castiel could see Hope's wings emerging, huge and shadowy.

One of the demons holding Hope grabbed her wings and pulled them sharply away from her body. She screamed as they were ripped from her shoulders and suddenly Cas understood. White light erupted from Hope, glinting off of the angel blade on its way to her chest. Cas lunged forward and knocked the blade to the ground. He shoved the demon against the wall but was dragged off of him by his companion, who had dropped Hope to grab Castiel. The first demon walked toward him, black eyes glinting cruelly.

"Cas!" Hope called from the floor. He looked to the sound as she tossed him the angel blade that she had retrieved from where the demon had dropped it. He caught it and plunged its point into his attacker's chest, then turned and stabbed his captor. Both demons erupted in a flash of white light.

Castiel dropped the angel blade and ran to Hope. She was slumped on the floor, clutching her abdomen, eyes squeezed shut. "Hope?" Cas asked. "Hope, are you alright?"

She nodded tightly. "Fine." She breathed.

Cas looked around nervously. "We need to get out of here before more of Bartholomew's people show up." Hope nodded again. "Can you stand?"

"I think so--ah!!" Hope cried, her legs buckling as she tried to get to her feet.

Castiel caught her. "I've got you." He said, scooping her into his arms and carrying her out of the warehouse to his car. He sat her gently in the passenger seat and she leaned her head back against the headrest, her eyes still closed. As Cas climbed into the car he remembered how he had left the bunker, left Sam, abrupt, with no explanation. He reached into his pocket to call Sam but realized he had left his phone at the bunker. "Damn it!" he muttered. With one more glance at Hope, he started the engine and began driving to the bunker.

*****************

Castiel rushed into the bunker, Hope cradled in his arms. Her face was tight and her pale forehead was beaded with sweat, but she was still conscious, which Cas decided was a good thing despite the fact that she was in pain. "Sam!" he called. "Sam!"

The hunter came running out to meet him. "Cas? Where have you--what happened?" he asked, seeing Hope.

"Abaddon." was all Cas said. He didn't stop, so Sam fell in step behind him, following the angel to the bunker's hospital. 

Castiel laid Hope down on a cot and placed a hand on her forehead. She opened her eyes, briefly glancing at Sam before her glassy gaze shifted back to Cas. "Dean?" She murmured questioningly. "'Want Dean." her face screwed up and she shut her eyes again, clenching her fists.

Cas looked up from Hope to look at Sam for a moment. "Call him."

"What?" Sam asked, not comprehending.

"Call Dean."

"Cas, I--" Sam protested.

"Just call him!" Castiel insisted. "This isn't about you and your brother having a petty argument, Sam. This is about Hope. She has had her wings torn out. And Dean needs to know. So if that's inconvenient for you, if you don't want to, suck it up and get on the phone!"

Sam nodded, locking his jaw, and left the room. Cas sighed and turned back to Hope. He could feel her grace writhing inside of her, threatening to burn her up from the inside. An angel's wings were simply a manifestation of the part of their grace which allowed them to fly, so the feathery shapes were inseparable from that piece of grace, which was what made them so powerful. When Abaddon's men ripped out her wings, they took part of her grace, badly damaging the piece left inside of her; it was raw, celestial power spiraling out of control inside a mostly human body. He had to repair it.

As he worked, Cas thought about what he had seen in the warehouse, the bodies littered everywhere. Now he understood why there had been no wing marks; Abaddon was using the Horn of Gabriel to lure angels to him and steal their wings. Castiel shuddered in disgust. Still, he had to admit that angel wings were a great source of power. But to inflict such pain for the sake of obtaining power...well, Cas had been there, and had learned where it led.

It was almost merciful of Abaddon to kill them right after. Cas thought despite himself, examining Hope's tattered grace. He wasn't sure he could fix this.

In the other room, he could hear Sam on the phone. His tone sounded strained, but he wasn't yelling, and Cas supposed that was the best he could ask for right now.

Finally, he had done all he could to put Hope's grace back together and repair the damage it had done to her body, even using some of his own stolen grace to smooth out the frayed edges. He hoped it would be enough. At some point she had drifted off into unconsciousness and she seemed to be in less pain, which was a good sign.

There was a knock on the door and Sam poked his head in. "Um, I called Dean." He said quietly, glancing at Hope. "He's on his way. You might want to call him, though. He...uh...he's kind of freaking out, but he didn't really want to talk to me."

Cas nodded. "Keep an eye on her." He said, tilting his head toward Hope as he left the room. 

Once he retrieved his phone he dialed Dean's number. The hunter picked up halfway through the first ring. "How is she?" the gruff voice asked.

"Dean?" Cas asked.

"Yeah, it's me. How is she?"

"Uh, okay. She's okay." Castiel assured him. "She's sleeping right now."

Dean let out a breath on the other end. "Good. I'm on my way, should be there in a few hours." He paused. "Cas...what happened? Sam-" he spoke the name cautiously "uh, said something about her wings? That she...that they were 'ripped out'?"

Castiel could hear the worry in Dean's voice and was hesitant to answer. "Yes," he finally said. "Abaddon's men, they're luring angels using the Horn of Gabriel and....stealing their wings." He explained.

Dean was silent for a moment. When he spoke his voice was rough and quiet. "Damn it, I left to protect her. I thought.....I should've been there."

"Dean, there was nothing you could do. I couldn't stop it and I was right there--"

"Well I should've been there." Dean snapped. He sighed. "I never should've left." Cas could hear in the hunter's voice that he was rubbing his forehead in frustration. "God, I'm such an idiot."

Cas shook his head. "You're not an idiot, Dean. You just made a bad decision."

"Yeah, I've been doing that a lot lately." Dean shook his head. "You'd think I'd be able to do at least one thing right."

"You're coming back. That's right, Dean." Castiel assured him.

"We'll see."

Castiel sighed. "I should check on Hope. I'll call you if anything changes."

"Yeah." Dean replied, his voice gravelly. "Cas?"

"Yes?" the angel asked.

"Thanks."

Castiel smiled softly. "You're welcome, Dean."


	18. As they turn your Dream

When Dean arrived at the bunker he found Sam waiting for him in the study. The younger Winchester didn't make eye contact, just glanced up at his brother. "They're, uh, in your room." Cas had decided to move Hope there after he hung up with Dean because, as he said, 'She'd be more comfortable in a real bed and this isn't really the type of thing that a hospital is equipped to handle anyway.'

"Thanks." Dean muttered. He knew he should say something to make up with Sam, but all he could think about right now was Hope.

He walked down the hall until he came to his room. The door was cracked open and a warm light leaked out. Dean knocked lightly on the door before poking his head in. Castiel sat on a chair beside the bed. The room was dark except for a lamp sitting on the beside table. The angel looked up when Dean stepped in, but Dean's eyes were on Hope.

She was lying on her back, a blanket pulled up to her shoulders. She looked perfectly normal; her face was relaxed, her skin no paler than usual, but that could've been a result of the dim light. The hunter knelt beside the bed and took her hand in his. "How is she?" he asked quietly, not wanting to wake her.

"The same." Castiel whispered back, following Dean's cue. "She should wake up soon." Dean nodded. "I'll, uh, I'll go make some soup. She might be hungry when she wakes up." He started to leave but stopped and put a tentative hand on Dean's back. "I'm glad you're here, Dean. I hope you'll stay."

Dean gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, Cas." The angel nodded and left, and Dean turned his attention back to Hope. He brushed a strand of hair back from her forehead. "Hey, sweetie." he whispered. "I'm sorry I left you. I shouldn't have. I should've been here to protect you." He swallowed, fighting back tears, and stopped talking, electing instead to examine her hands. They were small and lithe, the fingers thin and agile-looking. Her skin was pale with a silvery undertone, as if it were encasing hundreds of tiny stars. Gold freckles were sprinkled across them and up her fingers. Dean vaguely remembered his mother telling him that freckles were angel kisses. It seemed fitting in Hope's case.

A soft breath came from the head of the bed. Dean looked up to find two gray eyes watching him. "Dean?" Hope asked.

"Hey." Dean breathed, scooting closer to the bed and stroking Hope's cheek. "How do you feel?"

"Mmm....okay." She murmured.

"Do you remember what happened?" Dean asked gently.

Hope's expression darkened. "Yes." She whispered sadly, closing her eyes. She reached out her arms to Dean and he bent closer to her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck. He slipped his hands under her back and pulled her up, closer to him. Hope buried her face in his neck. "I'm glad you're back."

"Hope, I'm sorry." Dean sighed. "I shouldn't have left. I thought I was protecting you, but...I was wrong. I should've been here."

Hope pulled away and smiled at Dean, then punched him lightly in the chest. "Don't you ever do that again."

Dean laughed. "Only if you promise not to get hurt anymore."

"Deal." Hope whispered, laying her head on his chest again. Dean kissed her hair and she tilted her face up to meet his lips with her own. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

There was a soft knock on the door and Castiel peered into the room. "Hey, Cas." Hope greeted him.

"Hello, Hope." He said, coming further into the room. "It's good to see you awake."

She gave him a small smile and nestled into Dean, closing her eyes.

"Are you tired?" Dean asked.

Hope nodded. "I shouldn't be, but yeah, I am."

"You can go to sleep. I'll be right here." Dean promised. Hope was asleep in less than a minute. Dean looked down at her, his green eyes warmer than they had been since he left.

"She seems to be recovering well." Castiel pointed out.

Dean nodded absently. "I think she's in more pain than she's letting on."

Cas sighed. "I wish I knew what to do. But this....I've never encountered something like this before. What Abaddon is doing...it's unprecedented."

Dean ground his teeth. "I'm going to find her."

"Dean--"

"No, Cas. Damn it, I'm going to make her pay." Dean hissed, his green eyes blazing.

Castiel's expression hardened. "You focus on Hope." He said. "I'll take care of Abaddon." his voice was more fierce than Dean had ever heard it, even when they first met. Dean remembered how threatening the angel could be. You should show me some respect. He had snarled. It was comforting to know that there was at least one powerful being on their side in all of this.

All at once the fire left Castiel's blue eyes and he was his same trench-coated, peaceful, bee-watching self. "I should check on the soup." He murmured. Then he was gone, leaving Dean thinking that for once there really was at least one angel watching over him and the ones he loved.

*****************

When Hope woke up again Dean was lying on the bed beside her, her head pulled on his chest. He was skimming through a book, mumbling something to himself.

"What's that?" Hope asked, shifting to try to see the pages.

"Uh, huh," he snorted, closing the book so Hope could see the cover. "Supernatural. It's, uh, well...it's a book series about...about Sam and me."

Hope laughed. "Are you serious? Is it accurate?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. The author's real name is Chuck. Chuck Shirley. Apparently he's a prophet, but he didn't know it, he just thought it was some story. But, yeah, it's accurate." He looked at Hope, his green eyes searching. A blush was creeping up his neck. "I had Cas pick them up. I...I want you to have them. Read them, if you want. I figure....you know, if you're going to choose this life....with me....you deserve to know. Everything."

Hope had to swallow the lump forming in her throat. "Thank you." She whispered.

Dean gave her a half smile. "Are you still feeling okay?"

Hope thought about that for a moment. "Yeah." She finally said. "I'm just....well, human, now I guess." At Dean's sympathetic look she smiled. "But I don't mind. All of my favorite people are human. Well, except Castiel."

"Oh, he's one of your favorites, is he?" Dean teased.

"Yup." Hope replied, not missing a beat. "I like him almost as much as I like you."

Dean laughed. "As long as I'm your favorite..."

"I didn't say that."

The hunter chuckled. "Okay, okay." He sighed. "I have to go take care of some stuff, will you be okay by yourself for a while?" Hope nodded. "Are you sure? I could get Cas to come sit with you. Or Sam."

"No, I'm fine." Hope insisted, waving the book at him. "I've got a book, it'll take me about two minutes to get so immersed in this that I wouldn't notice if the apocalypse was happening right outside my door."

"That's not funny." Dean told her, sitting up. "That is like a legitimately possible situation." Hope just laughed. Dean placed a cell phone on the beside table. "I'm one on speed dial, Sam is two, and Cas is three. Call if you need anything."

"Okay." He kissed her quickly and then was gone.

Hope picked up the book and thumbed through the pages, inhaling their warm scent. Then she opened it to the prologue and began reading.

Lawrence, Kansas. November 2nd, 1983.


	19. To Shame

By the time Dean got back, Hope was almost finished with the first book. He didn't speak when he walked in, just came and sat silently on the bed beside her. As soon as he sat down Hope put the book upside down on the mattress and wrapped her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, not quite understanding what was going on.

After a moment Hope spoke, her voice tickling Dean's neck as she continued to embrace him. "You don't have to talk about it. You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know that I know, and....and...." She couldn't think of the right words, so she just squeezed him tighter, letting the hug say what she didn't know how to. "Let's do something. I can finish this another time."

"Okay. Want to watch TV?" Dean asked.

"Sure." Hope answered. Dean picked up the remote and clicked the television on. As the screen lit up they were greeted by a British voice announcing 'A brand new episode of Doctor Who, only on BBC America.'

Dean glanced at Hope, a blush darkening his cheeks. This was his TV and he was the last one to use it; there was no way around the fact that he had been watching Doctor Who, but he tried anyway. "Uh...I..uh......"

"Doctor Who, huh?" Hope asked, not a hint of scorn in her voice. She actually looked....excited. "Who's your favorite Doctor?"

"Uh....Nine." He admitted, smiling a little. "He doesn't get enough credit, but I think Christopher Eccleston was, huh, fantastic as the Doctor."

Hope laughed at that. "I've always liked Nine, too." She agreed. "And Ten. And...John Hurt...8.5...whatever. Have you seen Twelve yet?" She asked.

Dean shook his head. "I got behind with everything that's been going on. I haven't seen any of season eight."

Hope shook her head. "Me, either."

"I have it recorded, do you want to watch it?" Dean asked. Hope just raised her eyebrows as if to say 'Are you really asking that question?' Dean laughed and used the remote to navigate them to season eight, episode one, Deep Breath, and they settled down to watch.

******************

"I want to go for a walk." Hope announced. They had watched all four episodes new episodes of Doctor Who and were eating the soup that Castiel had made earlier. He and Sam had already gone to bed; it was late and they hadn't slept all day like Hope and Dean had.

"It's almost midnight." Dean pointed out.

Hope shrugged. "I know. But I'm not tired. Please! I've been cooped up all day! I need some fresh air!"

Dean looked at her as if he was trying to analyse her health with his eyes. "Are you okay? I don't want you to do anything that's going to--"

"I'm fine, Dean." She interrupted. "Please!"

Dean sighed. "Put on a coat." He said, his tone defeated.

"Yes!" Hope hopped up, grabbed her dark green corduroy jacket, and slipped it on.

"Where do you want to go?"

Hope shrugged. "There's a place nearby." She said cryptically.

Dean sighed, knowing he'd get nothing more out of her. The girl could be more stubborn than Sam sometimes. "Okay."

He let Hope lead him out of the bunker and into the trees outside. It was cool, but not too cold, he decided. As they walked, Hope took his hand, entwining her fingers with his. After a few minutes of walking in silence, the only sound the leaves crunching beneath their feet, Hope spoke up. "So...Doctor Who, huh?"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. It used to come on late in some of the motels we would stay in as kids. I'd stay up all night when it was just Sam and me." his expression was serious now. "Sometimes I was waiting for Dad to get back, sometimes...." He shook his head. "Sometimes I was just too scared to sleep." He looked down, at their clasped hands. "But there was the Doctor, and he just...I don't know. They weren't airing new episodes anymore, so it was all just random, out-of-order re-runs, but there was something about it. The Doctor made me feel safe. He made me feel like it was okay to wander around, without a home, doing good. Saving people. He made my life seem like some heroic journey instead of a cross I had to bear because of what happened to Mom." Dean smiled a little, his green eyes crinkling with memories. "I've gone back and watched it all through the years. Once Sam got his laptop I found it on Netflix." He laughed, a thin, airy sound. "That was a much more sappy story than I meant for it to be. Sorry."

"No, no. It was beautiful." Hope insisted. "It was a way to escape for me, too. To leave all the foster homes and families behind and go on wonderful adventures with a madman in a blue box." She pressed herself closer to Dean, the fabric of their jackets brushing. "I've never watched it with another person before. It's always been something I did alone."

Dean nodded. "I like it better this way."

"Me, too."

*****************

After a while they came out of the trees. There was a small playground just outside of the town they had come to. It had a squeaky merry-go-round with chipping paint,a flimsy, dented slide, a rusted jungle gym, and a old, sagging swing set, the kind with curved, rubber seats. Hope tugged Dean toward the swing set and sat down excitedly, kicking her legs to get herself going. Dean just stood there watching her, bewildered.

After a while Hope noticed that Dean wasn't swinging. She slowed herself, no longer kicking the air. "What?" She asked. "Don't you like to swing?"

Dean shrugged. "I've never really done it..." 

"Never?" Dean shrugged again. "There must've been a swing set somewhere, at one of your schools or something." Hope insisted.

"Yeah." Dean conceded, uncertain. "But I never really....I was always pushing Sammy." Hope's eyes softened, but Dean shrugged off her sympathy. "I didn't mind. Seeing him swinging was better than swinging myself."

Hope stopped her swing and hopped off, walking over to Dean. She grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the swing next to hers. "What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"Sit." She said, pushing down on his shoulders to indicate that she wanted him to sit on the swing. Dean obliged, now the same height as Hope. She moved around to stand behind him. "I'm pushing you." She explained. "And you're swinging." She gave his back a shove and he almost fell out of the seat. Hope laughed. "You have to hold on." She told him. "Here." She came back in front of him and took his hands from his lap. "Like this." She curled his fingers around the chain that held the swing up. "Now hold on." She pushed him again, and this time he stayed in his seat. It took a few shoves for him to get going, but finally he was swinging. "Good! Now kick your legs to keep yourself going." Dean followed her instructions and the swing kept its steady arc as Hope ran over to her swing. 

They stayed at the park for a while, Hope demonstrating various different ways of swinging and Dean making up his own. After a while they both grew tired and just sat on the swings, a comfortable silence between them. Dean sighed. "We should probably head back soon." He lamented.

Hope nodded. "Yeah."

Dean looked at her. His....girlfriend? The word didn't seem important enough to capture what she was to him. The moon glinted off of her golden hair and illuminated her pale skin. And he realized that he loved her. It had been a long time since he let himself love someone that wasn't family. But the realization didn't scare him as much as he thought it would. He tried to think how he could tell her in a way that wouldn't sound stupid. "Hope....I, uh...thank you. For bringing me out here. I needed this. You're....I mean I.....I..." He stammered.

"Dean." Hope interrupted him, smiling. "I know."

She was telling him that she understood, that he didn't have to use the words that he somehow couldn't find. But he had to tell her. "No." Dean swallowed, looking directly into Hope's pale gray eyes. "I love you."

Hope reached out and took Dean's hand, letting their arms hang in the space between their swings. "I love you, too, Dean Winchester." She smiled even broader. 

They stood up to leave, but as their eyes locked, Dean pulled Hope closer to him, bending his neck until their lips touched. Hope wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. They stayed like that for a long time, even after they broke the kiss, the old playground shining in the silvery light of the moon. Then they started home.


End file.
